


They Were Roommates

by f0rever15elf



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Fingering, Food mention, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Panic Attacks, Modern AU, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Smut, Swearing, Vaginal Sex, gun mention, hospital mention, mention of PTSD, reader in danger, reader injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 56,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f0rever15elf/pseuds/f0rever15elf
Summary: A dangerous night leads to an interesting living arrangement between you and one grumpy Spaniard.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You, William Garin / OFC
Comments: 19
Kudos: 54





	1. They Were Roommates

You should have run. You should have turned on your heel and gotten out of there as quick as your legs could have possibly carried you. You knew better than to go sticking your nose into things that could get you in trouble, Dad had raised you better than this. But Mom had raised you with that tender heart and soft soul, and ultimately they won out over your sense of self preservation. And now here you are, surrounded by a group of brutish looking men who all reek of the cheapest vodka you’ve ever smelt. The contents of your stomach churn as they banter, joking about all of the things they were going to do to you, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you do your best to keep your knees from knocking together. **  
**

You should have walked the other way. 

But the man on the ground was being beaten. Five on one was hardly ever a fair fight, no matter how strong and rugged the one seemed. And so you had yelled out to get their attention, telling them to back off. And it got their attention alright. The new target was you, and they wasted no time in cornering you against the brick wall. 

“Please, please just let me go. You can have everything in my purse, and I won’t tell anyone about this. Please…” You hate the way your voice sounds when you beg, but if it meant surviving, your pride could take the compromise. The one you could only assume was the ringleader barked out an obnoxious sounding laugh and shook his head. 

“No can do toots. We were getting bored with our little punching bag over there. You showed up at just the right time.” The four other goons all chuckle and make various sounds of agreement, closing the circle in on your tighter. Your mouth is dry as the Sahara when you try to swallow and your ears are beginning to ring. 

“P…Please don’t do this…” you manage to squeak out as the leader slinks up in front of you, bracing a hand by your head as he stares at you with feral eyes. You close your eyes tightly, trying to shrink away from the stink of cheap booze on his breath when a sharp crack from behind the leader breaks the tension. Your eyes snap open to see the man who they were beating standing there with a short piece of pipe clutched in his hands. In front of him, one of the men lay crumpled and motionless on the ground, red staining the ground around his head. Your stomach couldn’t take it any more and you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach right onto the ringleader’s shoes. Sputtering and gasping for breath you stand back up as the remaining four descend on the dark haired man, leaving you your opportunity to escape. Dark eyes catch yours for a brief moment before the man nods, swinging his pipe again. You decide that’s your cue, and turn tail, taking off into the night.

—-

The next morning, the blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from a restless sleep. Resisting the urge to chuck it through your window, you instead turn it off, slamming it back down on the bed side table. Sleep had eluded you in favor of nightmares of the men cornering you. Even in your dreams the smell of alcohol was sharp and nauseating. With a groan and a sigh, you toss back the covers and stumble into the bathroom. 

“…I look like shit.” The reflection stares back at you with sunken eyes surrounded in dark circles, her hair an absolute mess. ‘Death warmed over’ is how your mom would word it, and to be honest, it pretty accurately describes how you’re feeling this morning. Did you really need to go to work today? One more glance in the mirror and you decide that is a firm “No.” Marcy would understand when you call her about it, you know she would. “I should get cleaned up, at least,” you mutter, quickly going about your morning routine. 

The shower certainly helped, and with a little under-eye concealer the bags were mostly hidden. Mostly. Today was a me day, you decide, grabbing your purse and heading out the door. First order of business? Caffeine. 

The little coffee shop down the street was your favorite spot for a decent cup of coffee, and the owners were always so sweet. As the bells in the doorway chimed over your head, Samael, the owner, looked up to greet you, smiling as he recognized you instantly. 

“Well, well, well! Good morning to our favorite regular!" 

"Morning Sam. How are you and Anita doing?” You smile as you approach the counter, already digging out your wallet. 

“Well, today. A bit of a busy morning, but busy is a good thing! Will it be your usual today?”

“Please, with an extra espresso shot.”

“Long night?”

“You have no idea.” Sam just chuckles and shakes his head, ringing you up before going to make your order, muttering something about what it is to be young as he does. 

With your artificial energy securely in your hands, you make your way outside. The sun was shining brightly today, and a cool breeze kissed your skin, beckoning you to spend time enjoying it. The park it is. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even notice the man making his way towards you until it was too late. A hiss leaves your lips as hot coffee drenches the front of your blouse, causing you to jump back. “Son of a-! I am so so sorry!” You look up to see who had been unfortunate enough to wear the other half of your drink and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. “It’s…you…" 

"Clumsy,” he mutters under his breath before scowling back up to you. “You should be more careful.” A heat rises in your cheeks and you clear your throat, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. He had an accent, you noticed. Spanish, perhaps? Regardless, it sounded wonderful coming off of his lips, and almost didn’t match the irritated look he wore. 

“I’m honestly really sorry about that, I wasn’t paying attention.” The man just grunts in agreement, slipping off his coffee soaked hoodie. 

“Clearly. Like I said, you should be more careful.” He stares you down with dark brown eyes and you get the feeling he isn’t just talking about the coffee incident. In the daylight, you could finally get a good look at him. Dark, curled hair stuck out in almost every direction on top of his head in an organized chaos. His eyes had a hard edge to them, the edge of a man who had seen too much. His skin had an almost golden hue to it, but the most notable feature was the scar that ran along his left eye, now paired with a blooming black bruise. His lip was split and a bruise was creeping its way along his jawline as well. “It’s rude to stare." 

The comment sends a jolt through you and you jump, clearing your throat. "Right, I’m sorry I just…You…you’re the guy from last night, right…?” You lower your voice as you ask, worried about someone overhearing, though you weren’t sure why. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring you down with an intensity that made you feel only inches tall. 

“Maybe." 

”…Thank you, then. For…“ you wave your hands, trying to complete your sentence, but the thought of what he had saved you from brought a sour taste to your mouth. 

"We’re even.” His matter of fact tone catches you off guard and you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, so you close it, kicking the ground. The whole time, his eyes never leave your face. 

“Did you, uhm, get those taken care of?” you ask, gesturing to his face. 

“They’ll heal on their own." 

"So, that’s a no then. I have a cold compress back at my place. A-and I can wash your hoodie since I got coffee all over it. It’s the least I could do.” What are you doing? Inviting a strange man over to your place? A man whose name you didn’t even know? A man who literally beat someone with a length of pipe right in front of you last night? If Dad could see you now he’d be reading you the riot act for sure. The mystery man just blinks, considering it for a moment. “And I could make us some lunch…?" 

"Sure.” Ah, so the way to this man is through his stomach. That’s easy enough to handle. You offer him a gentle smile and nod, turning to head back to your apartment, and he follows just behind you, hands still in his pockets and grumpy countenance still on his face. 

The walk is…strange. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but there was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you, and it was clear this man was not going to be initiating any form of conversation. Clutching at your bag, you clear your throat. “I don’t think I ever got your name.” You look up at him, curiosity in your eyes. 

“Tovar is what most call me.” You nod, testing his name on your lips. 

“Tovar…Spanish, right? That sounds like a Spanish name,” you muse, and he just makes a grunt of affirmation. Clearly, this man was the pinnacle of conversationalists. The corners of your lips perk up at your own little joke. You offer him your own name and he nods. “Are you from around here?” The look he gives you absolutely screams “what do you think?” and you felt that heat rise in your cheeks again. 

“Spain. The Eastern region. Moved here about a year ago." 

"Well, welcome to The States.” You rummage around in your bag, pulling out your keys to let you both in. You kick off your shoes as soon as you cross the threshold and drop your keys in the bowl you keep by the door. “Home sweet home. Pardon the mess, I wasn’t expecting to bring someone home today.” The man called Tovar was silent, standing in the doorway with an awkward hunch in his shoulders. “You can come in, you know. Make yourself at home. Ah, and I’ll take your hoodie.” He hands it off to you without question before slipping off his own shoes, following your farther inside. He remains standing, looking over the pictures you have hung over your walls. When you return from changing into a clean shirt and starting the laundry, he’s found one particular picture that he’s picked up off the bookcase to look over and you feel your chest tighten.

“That’s my parents.” Your voice is smaller than you were expecting it to be, and Tovar looks up at you when he hears it before looking back at the picture. “They passed away a couple of years ago. Car accident.” He nods, setting the picture back down. 

“You look much like your mother.” His observation brought a small smile to your lips as you turned to head into the kitchen. 

“Most people said I looked more like my dad. But I appreciate the compliment. How do some grilled cheeses and tomato soup sound?” He grunts again, coming to sit at the bar that runs along the side of your kitchen. Mulling over what to talk about as you get out everything for lunch, you decide it was best to jump in head first. “What did those men want with you last night?” You hazard a glance over to him to see him staring at his hand he’s resting on the bar. When he doesn’t reply after a moment, you gently call his name and his head snapped up, as if you broke him from a daze.

“The leader owed me money.” Now you’re really confused. 

“The big one owed you money, but you were the one getting beat up? Isn’t it usually the other way around?” The first sandwich sizzles in the pan as you flip it before looking back over your shoulder. 

“He called his friends to…deter me from taking what I was owed.” For some reason, the way he said that made your blood turn to ice in your veins. 

“Ah.” What else could be said? It suddenly felt hard to breathe in the little apartment so between sandwiches, you moved to open a window, feeling Tovar’s eyes on you the whole time. 

“That… sounded bad, didn’t it?” You look back at him as he speaks up, and you could swear you saw a nearly…sheepish…light in his eyes. But as quick as you saw it, it was gone, replaced with that glowering look he always seemed to have. “I just did some work for him, and he’s shorted me in the past so I didn’t want it to happen again.” You nod, setting a plate and bowl in front of him, for which he thanks you quietly before hunching over his food. Walking around the bar, you set your own food down and sit next to him as he eats like a man who hasn’t seen food in weeks. You pick at your sandwich, thinking. 

“Tovar…what is it you do?” You feel his eyes on you again, electing to keep your gaze on your soup. 

“You’re awful interested in business that is not yours,” he grumbles before taking another bite. 

“Can you blame me? This isn’t exactly a normal situation." 

He sets his spoon down and sits back in his chair with a sigh. "I do whatever I can to make ends meet. To get food to eat. To save for a place to live.” You splutter into your soup, grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth before turning back to him. 

“You don’t have a place to live? You’re homeless?" 

"I am.” That matter of fact attitude astounded you. 

“What the…How can you be so…okay with that?” He just shrugs. 

“It’s how I’ve lived for years since I left the Spanish military. No job, no family, no friends, nowhere to go. I came here to see if I could find something else.” His eyes leave yours and he picks up the spoon again, playing in the soup. You sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to wrap your mind around this. He was homeless, probably struggled to ever get a good meal which would explain how voracious he was when you put the food in front of him, and had no one. Your heart begins to ache as it always did when you were met with someone in need. 

“I…have a spare room…” The words are out of your mouth before you’re able to second guess them. The look of surprise on Tovar’s face as he looks up at you makes your heart stutter for a moment. 

“Are you offering it to me…? I can’t pay you yet, I have almost no money.” You shake your head and wave him off. 

“I’m not looking to make a profit off you, Tovar. If you need a place to stay, you can stay here for as long as you need. Just help out around the house. The nights are gonna start getting colder." 

” _Amiga_ , you are far too trusting.“ For the first time, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, oh so slight, but you’re sure it’s there. 

"I know, and my dad is rolling over in his grave because of it.” The laugh that leaves your lips is gentle and light and is the closest thing to music Tovar has heard in a long time. Perhaps things would be alright after all. 

—

It’s been almost two months since you invited Tovar into your home, and it’s nearing a point where you’re finding it hard to remember what living alone felt like. Life with him was comfortably simple. He never asked for much, and did as you asked in terms of helping to keep the house clean. Tovar kept odd hours, a by product of taking odd jobs to try and start amassing some semblance of savings, and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home from work to find the grumpy Spaniard knocked out on the couch with the TV on Telemundo. And every time it brought a smile to your face. When he was sleeping, his face looked so much less grumpy, the frown lines smoothing out as he dreams. You would drape a blanket over him and turn off the TV before heading to your own bedroom to sleep. 

What you weren’t expecting was after a night of working late to come home to the smell of popcorn. “Tovar..?” You called out, confused. Normally at this time, he was either out on a job or passed out on the couch. 

“ _Amiga_ , you’re home! Good!” He comes out of the kitchen, a large bowl of popcorn in his arms. You set your purse down by the door, walking over to him with that puzzled look still on your face. 

“Work held me a little late today. What’s with the popcorn?” He hands off the bowl to you before grabbing two beers from the fridge. 

“A celebration is in order." 

"Celebration? For what?" 

"As of today, I am employed!” You blink as a slow recognition lights your face. 

“The security detail job got back to you?” The excitement in your voice is unmistakable and he nods, proud. 

“I start tomorrow." 

"Tovar, that’s great!” He nods again, grunting as he moves past you to the living room. 

“So tonight, let’s watch a movie together to celebrate.” He plops himself down on the couch, spreading out and making himself comfortable, drawing a chuckle from your lips as you move to join him. It wasn’t often that he acted happy, usually staying quiet and reserved even when you knew he was excited about something, so this was a welcome change of pace. 

“As you wish,” you grin as you set the bowl down before settling in next to him, pulling a throw over your lap. 

“What shall we watch?” he grumbles, flicking through Netflix. You shrug, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. 

“Dealer’s choice, _gruñón_." He rolls his eyes at the nickname you had for him before settling on some Spanish flick you had never seen before, remembering to turn on the subtitles for you. Exchanging the remote for his beer, he settles in, turning off the light on the side table and plunging the room into darkness, save the light from the TV. 

You aren’t sure when exactly you fell asleep, You really aren’t sure when you ended up leaning against Tovar, and you are EXTREMELY unsure as to when his arm found its way around you. The only thing you are sure of is that this grumpy man holding you to him while he slept was one of the most comfortable feelings you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. At least, that is what your sleepy haze told you. When it finally clicks that you were cuddled up to your roommate, your heart leaps into a sprint and you tense in his arms. You shouldn’t be doing this. You were roommates. Oh my god, you were ROOMMATES! This was crossing all sorts of lines! Wiggling slightly, you do your best to try and worm your way out of Tovar’s grasp, but the movement stirs him just enough that he grabs you more securely to him, turning you so your cheek presses against his chest. 

” _Hermosa_ …“ His words are but a breath on the top of your hair and you freeze, the sound of his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear. Had you heard that right? Maybe it was just the rustling of fabric. Yeah, that was it, the fabric. Heat was rapidly rising in your cheeks and the tips of your ears were on fire, but struggling too much more to get out of Tovar’s grasp would surely wake him, and you knew he needed to be well rested for his first day of work. And so you choose to stay in place, cradled against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat strong in your ear, the sound that slowly lulls you back to sleep. 

—

You thought the morning was going to be awkward, but Tovar never gave you the chance. The sun’s golden light pouring through your curtains is what wakes you, alone, on your living room couch. Sitting up, you wipe the sleep from your eyes, your cheeks getting hot again as you recall what you woke to earlier that morning. "Tovar…?” You called softly, standing up to look for your roommate, but only finding a note on the kitchen table, telling you that he had headed in to work with an approximation of when he would be home. He must have tucked you in before he left, and this thought did little to cool the heat burning in your cheeks. 

You slap your cheeks quickly, letting out a frustrated groan as you make your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up for your day. You were friends, that’s all. Roommates. Sometimes friends fall asleep on each other, no big deal. So why is it that whenever your mind wandered to the thought of being in Tovar’s arms, your cheeks grew hot and your pulse quickened? Why was it that the only thing you could bring yourself to think of was how strong and sturdy he felt as he held you to him? Why was “ _hermosa_ ” said in his sleepy voice the only sound you could hear as you tried to go about your day? Looking into the mirror as the steam slowly starts to fog it up, you had your answer, proudly displayed in the shine in your eyes.

“…Fuck…I’m falling for my roommate…" 

And so, you do the only thing you can think to do when you find yourself bogged down in thought. You clean. Today was an off day for you, so you had all the time in the world, and the countdown to Tovar’s return from work was quite possibly the longest countdown you’ve ever been faced with. All the better to clean with, you decide, throwing on some music. Working from room to room, you clean every surface that COULD be cleaned; counters, cabinets, walls, baseboards, floors…The apartment would be SPARKLING by the time you were through with it, so help you God. Tovar would inch back into your thoughts time to time, and in retaliation to the errant thoughts, you scrub harder or faster, as if the scrubbing would cleans the thoughts away. So absorbed are you in your cleaning that you don’t even hear the door open, or the keys clatter into the holder. 

"Scrub any more and you’ll need to replace the tile.” You nearly jump out of your skin, letting out an embarrassing shriek as you wheel around, brandishing the bottle of cleaner as a weapon. You’re met with Tovar’s bemused expression, eyebrow cocked as he leans against the door jam of the bathroom with crossed arms. 

“Jesus, Tovar, you scared the crap out of me!" 

"Thought you heard me come in,” he shrugs. “All I can smell is cleaner, have you been cleaning all day?" 

”…Maybe.“ 

"Why?" You open your mouth to respond then snap it closed, fidgeting, still on the floor. You couldn’t just tell him it was because you had been thinking about him all day, you couldn’t make things weird like that. You were roommates, just roommates. 

"Just felt like cleaning is all." 

"Amiga, you are a strange one.” He holds out his hand to help you up, his face still disgruntled looking, and you take it. Your knees protest and you groan, stretching as you make it to your feet. 

“How was your first day?” You ask, moving past him, oblivious to the look on his face in response to the borderline lewd groan you let out. He swallows thickly, following you back to the kitchen. He grunts as he sits down, rolling his eyes. 

“I work with a bunch of idiots.” You can’t help but chuckle, unsurprised at his response. Tovar tended to find most people to be idiots. “But it’s steady pay. Better than the odd jobs I was working." 

"That’s good. I’m sure you’ll be able to take care of any of the idiots at work in short order.” You flash him a grin before ducking down to put the chemicals back under the sink. “I was thinking paella for dinner. I splurged on some saffron and seafood at the store when I went shopping the other day.” You pop up from behind the counter just in time to see the surprise on his face before it falls back into the resting grumpy face he wears so well. 

“You know how to make paella?” His voice is incredulous, and you nod, grinning. 

“I learned on a trip to Spain several years ago, actually. I just don’t normally cook it 'cause my paella pan is really big and well, seafood is expensive.” He lets out a grunt, sitting back in his chair and nods. 

“If you mess it up, I’ll judge you forever." 

"I would expect no less from you, Tovar.” Pulling off your gloves and tossing them under the sink as well, you head back to your bedroom. “I’m gonna shower then get started on dinner.” He grunts again, and you don’t catch it as his eyes follow you all the way back to your bedroom. 

Fresh from the shower and dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair still wet down your back, you make your way to the kitchen to start on dinner. Tovar is nowhere to be seen, so you assume he’s hiding in his room. The man enjoyed his privacy. Paella had seemed so intimidating to you at first, but after having someone walk you through the steps, you picked it up quickly, electing to stick to the more traditional rendition of the dish. After slapping the lid on the paella pan and setting a timer for it to simmer, you walk to Tovar’s door, tapping on it. You were just going to tell him that dinner was about 20 away, so you were surprised when the door opened. The sight before you took your breath away. 

He was standing there, shirtless in some loose hanging sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was damp, the occasional droplet dripping from it to roll down the expanse of his chest. Your eyes drifted down for a moment, taking in his muscular physique graced with scattered, faded scars. 

“It’s rude to stare,” he states simply, but the smirk is evident in his voice. You snap your eyes back to his, your face on fire. His eyebrow is arched and the smirk is firmly on his face. “What do you need amiga?" 

"D-Diner,” you squeak out. “Dinnerintwenty!” The words run together before you turn and all but sprint down the hall to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You lean against your door, sliding down to hide your face against your knees as you attempt to calm your racing thoughts. The way Tovar looked had been positively SINFUL, and your mouth is dry at the thought of how those drops of water looked rolling down his skin. 

“Stop stop stop,” you chant, smacking your cheeks again. “None of that, noooone of that.” After a few more deep breaths, you’re able to compose yourself enough to dart to the bathroom and rinse your face with some cold water before heading back to the kitchen to check on dinner. You notice Tovar has come out to take up residence on the couch, flipping through the channels. He’s apparently elected to put a shirt back on, and you’d be lying if you weren’t a little disappointed in that fact. He must have felt you staring, because he turns to look at you, eyebrow still arched, and you quickly avert your gaze to the dish in front of you, grabbing a fork to test the rice. Satisfied with the taste and texture, you grab out two plates, serving up a large portion for Tovar, and a significantly small portion for yourself. Two months, and he still ate like a starving man every meal. You had no idea where he managed to put it all. 

“Dinner’s ready, Tovar.” He grunts, coming back to the bar from his place on the couch to take his seat as you place down two glasses of white wine before hopping into your seat next to him. You watch him anxiously as he picks up his fork, heaping a large bite into his mouth. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as he takes a few more bites before he grunts appreciatively. 

“It won’t be winning any awards back home, but it isn’t bad.” The backhanded compliment was more than you had expected, and a wide smile crosses your face. Satisfied that he enjoys it well enough, you join him in eating quietly. Tovar never really talked while he ate, usually too busy stuffing his face to get a word out even if he wanted to, so dinners were typically silent. You couldn’t help the feeling of pride when he helped himself to an equally large second serving. As he sat back down, his knee bumped yours and you squeaked, drawing his gaze. 

“What was that?" 

"N-nothing, just startled me a bit is all.” You cram another bite into your mouth, hoping he would drop it. 

“You’re jumpy today, _amiga_.” He takes a few more bites before he continues. “Something happen?" 

Oh, you know, just came to a realization that I’m falling for my roommate who I still know so little about and I can’t get the thought of you wet and shirtless out of my head, but yeah, I’m totally fine….

Is what you wanted to say. All you were able to say, however, was a simple "No.” He nods, scraping up the last few bites on his plate before clearing both of your place settings. You down the rest of your wine in a gulp, hoping it would still your trembling nerves. Tovar loads the dishes into the dishwasher before turning to lean against the sink, arms crossed as he stares you down. “What?” You ask incredulously. He’s silent as he stares at you with that grumpy, inquisitive gaze, sizing you up like some sort of quarry. “What is it? Something on my face?” you ask again, unable to bare the intense silence. Eventually, he just shakes his head, pushing off of the counter to walk past you. 

“I have work early tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep,” he states, continuing down the hall. The sound of his door shutting is followed by you slumping in your chair, resting your head on the counter. You bang your head against the counter a few times before standing up to clean the kitchen. Once all of the dishes are put away and the counters wiped down, you head down the hall to your own room for the night. A sound coming from Tovar’s room causes you to pause. It sounded almost pained, so you stop to listen, concerned he might have hurt himself at work and didn’t tell you about it. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time he had done something like that. You can’t help the little gasp that escapes your lips when you hear him moan out your name, the shock of it causing you to stumble back from the door, pressing up against the wall adjacent to his door. Wide eyes bore holes into his door as your name drifted through it once more, laced with the lewdest sounding moan you had ever heard. 

Deciding you had heard enough, and feeling rather embarrassed for such a blatant breach of privacy, you bolt for your door, shutting it quietly. Your heart is racing, thrumming loudly in your ears, and your cheeks burn so hot you feel like you could combust just standing there. There could be no mistake, your name had come from Tovar’s lips mixed with the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. 

…How the HELL were you supposed to sleep tonight? 

—

The next week or so, you try your utmost to act normally around your roommate, still preparing meals, or covering him with a blanket if you come home late and find him on the couch. But every night plays out the same once you’re safely behind your bedroom door. Those lewd moans lacing your name in his gruff, husky voice. The thought of them caused the heat to pool in your belly every time, without fail. You’d find yourself seeking your own high, getting off to the thought of him over you, moaning your name in your ear. God how you want him. 

There were times where you thought you had built up the courage to tell him that you had heard him, but as soon as those dark eyes meet with yours, all thoughts vacate your mind and you end up a babbling wreck. This was going to kill you, you were sure of it. 

The desperation and desire does nothing but mount the longer this drags on, to the point where even at work you can’t seem to manage to keep your thoughts off of the handsome Spaniard sharing your small apartment. Word from your manager saying you’re able to head home almost an hour early is a welcome reprieve and your home is a welcome sight as you cross the threshold before immediately making your way to your room, kicking the door closed behind you. Or, mostly closed, anyways. That didn’t matter, Tovar wasn’t going to be home for several hours. You’d be cleaned up and calmed down by then for sure. 

Shedding your clothes, you sprawl on your bed, slowly dancing gentle caresses over your skin. The pads of your fingers ghost around your nipples before you squeeze both breasts. You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes slip closed. Your imagination runs wild as you picture Tovar above you, his warm breath brushing over your skin, raising goosebumps along it. You shiver at the thought of him whispering your name against the shell of your ear, yearning to feel his stubble scratching against your cheek as he drags kisses down your jaw. 

Your hand finally dips between your legs, spreading yourself and coating your fingers in your own arousal before drifting back up to twirl around your delicate bundle of nerves. Your hips arch up off of the bed under your ministrations, wishing it was Tovar’s fingers drawing these moans from your lips rather than your own. His name slips out before you can stop yourself, completely lost in the fantasy of your roommate pinning you to the bed, the image of him in just those loose sweats urging you forward as the heat coils tighter in your stomach, your fingers moving ever faster as you pleasure yourself. “Fuck…Tovar…haaa…” You hiss between clenched teeth as you continue to work, drawing yourself ever closer. It’s when you imagine him whispering terms of endearment to you in his native tongue that sounds so good on his lips that you lose yourself completely, tipping over that precipice of pleasure with a long keen of his name, back arched. 

You fall back against the bed, panting as the waves of your orgasm slowly abate, leaving you in a happy haze as you get up to go and clean yourself. You’re a mess, aren’t you? Unable to think of anything but your roommate pleasuring you, which is definitely not what he signed up for when he agreed to your offer of a place to stay. You ponder how much longer this living arrangement is going to last. He has a steady job now, a steady paycheck. That, coupled with what he already has saved…he would probably be off to find a place of his own soon, and that thought made you sadder than you would care to admit. You can always ask him to stay, but would that be too forward? There was no harm in asking, right? He’d understand, right? Tovar was a bit of a grump, but he was at least understanding with most things….usually. With a grumble that sounds a bit too much like your roommate’s, you finish your shower, getting dressed before heading to the living room, nearly hitting the roof when you see Tovar sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. He glances up at you when he hears your gasp, that damn eyebrow quirked up again before his gaze fixes back on his phone. 

“I wasn’t expecting you home for another couple of hours, Tovar.” You try to make the comment sound offhand as you head into the kitchen to raid the fridge for dinner ideas. 

“Got off early.” Oh God, his voice was gruffer than usual and the heat was already pooling in your core again. 

“Well that’s good. You’ve been working late pretty much every night since you started.” You settled on just grabbing two beers from the fridge, bringing one over to him after opening it. He just nods, taking a sip of his drink. 

“They let me off because apparently threatening to break William’s arm for being an idiot isn’t proper etiquette.” Your mouth falls open and your eyebrows raise as you stare at him. He looks up at you and you see the glimmer of humor in his eyes, causing your shoulders to relax and a smile to cross your face. 

“Tovar, I never pegged you for a joking man.” You chuckle as you make your way back into the kitchen, pulling out the takeout menus. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight, come figure out where you wanna order from, what do you want?” You lean against the counter, flipping through menus with your back turned to him, doing your best to keep your mind from wandering to the man sitting on your couch. You jump a little when a hand finds your left hip, the other bracing against the counter as Tovar leans up against you. Instantly your face grows hot and your mouth goes dry at the feeling of him so utterly close to you. The hand on your hip feels electric and you struggle to keep your breathing under control. 

“What I want, _hermosa_?” His voice is low as he brings his head down level to yours. “Are you an option?” Your knees give then and there and if you hadn’t been holding on to the counter, you would have hit the floor. Tovar’s grip on your hip tightens and he presses up against you, pinning you to the counter as you tremble against him. “Well?” he nearly growls into your ear, and you squeak out an affirmative as his nose trails a line from your ear down your neck to your shoulder where he places a kiss at the junction before nipping it gently. A shudder runs through your body and you’re sure at any moment your eyes would open as you wake from this delicious dream. There is no way this could be real. 

You could feel him pressing up against your backside through your clothes and you swallow thickly at just how big he feels. Your imagination had not prepared you for this. The fingers of his left hand dig into your hip as his lips attach to your neck, sucking and nibbling till a dark mark is left. The sound he makes after leaving his mark is proud and dammit your knees just won’t stop shaking. 

“Pero,” he whispers suddenly into your ear and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him, confused. “The next time I hear you moaning my name, I want it to be my proper name.” His eyes were so dark and lust blown, they caught you so off guard that you almost didn’t put two and two together. 

“N…next time? What do you mean next-.” You cut yourself off as you freeze in realization. “Oh my God…you…you heard what I was…earlier you heard…” Pero smirks wickedly and nods. 

“You should really close your door, _hermosa_ , if you don’t want to be heard.” His hand that had been resting on the bar comes up to turn your head just a little more, gripping your chin to bring your lips to his in a firm kiss that you quickly find yourself melting into. For as gruff as he sounded, Pero’s lips were so damn soft. You crane your neck to press deeper into the kiss, drinking him in as much as humanly possible as you press your backside against him. He growls into the kiss as you grind against him, his hand letting go of your chin to run his fingers down your body, slipping under the hem of your tank top. Goosebumps break out along your skin the feeling of his calloused fingertips running along the skin of your stomach. In a sudden moment of boldness, you grab his wrist and lower his hand, helping to slip his fingers under the waistband of your pants and he groans into your mouth. Taking advantage of the situation, you lick up into his mouth, desperation and a burning need tinting every single action. His tongue dances with yours as his fingers rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, drawing a whimper from your lips. 

He’s the first to break the kiss, chuckling darkly against your lips. “You are a mess. Already so wet for me. Did your fantasy do me no justice to quell that ache between your legs?” All you can to do to respond is let out a high pitched whine at his lewd question, grinding down on his fingers, desperate for that delicious friction. 

“P-Pero…Please…” Your voice is a whimper as you open your eyes to look up at him, the desperation in them clear as day. He leans in, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, pulling back until your lip slips from between them with a gasp from you. 

“I like the sound of your voice when you beg, _maravillosa_.” You didn’t think his voice could get any lower than it was, and the sound of desire that laced his words would have hand you on the ground if he hadn’t been holding on to you. His fingers slowly slip under your panties, rubbing your mound before parting your lips to coat his fingers in your slick. “So fucking wet for me.” You whimper again, nodding as you cling to his arm, grinding down your hips. A jolt fires through you as he finally swirls the pad of his finger around your clit, and you let out a strangled cry, clenching your eyes closed. Pero chuckles in your ear, nibbling at the lobe before moving down your neck to suck another mark as his finger rubs the most tortuously slow circles against you. You were losing your mind and needed so much much. 

“I’ll beg all you want, please, PLEASE Pero, give me more. I need more,” you keen, bucking your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he obliges, slipping a finger inside of you with ease and you let out a content sigh, grinding down against his hand. He curls his finger against your walls, searching for the perfect spot that he knows will have you seeing stars. When you nearly scream, he grins against your skin, nipping at his latest mark before adding a second, then third finger, slowly thrusting them in and out of you, meeting the thrusts of your hips. The stretch of his fingers is delicious, the bump of his thumb against your clit with every thrust bringing you closer and closer as your nails dig into his arm. 

His lips trace along your ear still, and he whispers to you with that voice so low it draws a groan from your lips. “I want you to cum for me, _hermosa_. Cum and let me hear my name on your lips.” He punctuates his demand with a nip at your ear and you lose it, coming undone around his hand. Your walls clench around his fingers as you throw your head back against his shoulder, your arousal absolutely coating his fingers as his name pours from your lips as reverent as a prayer. He coaxes you gently through your orgasm with slow thrusts before slipping his fingers from you. When he puts them in his own mouth, moaning deliciously at the taste of you on his fingers, you could swear you were about to cum again just from the erotic sight. Your hands moving on their own, you grab his wrist and pull his fingers from his mouth. Looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you can manage, you bring his fingers to your lips, taking them in your own mouth. You moan at the taste of him mixed with your own arousal, running your tongue along the digits. The light in his eyes turns absolutely feral and he spins you around, reconnecting his lips with your, one hand holding your hips to his, one hand at the base of your skull, crushing your lips to his with a passion that literally takes your breath away. Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him closer to you as you drag your nails down his back, relishing in the shiver that runs through his body as you do. 

When he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw, you let your head fall back to grant him better access, trembling in anticipation and he forces your legs apart with his knee, bringing it up to grind mercilessly against you. The whimpers he draws from you only spur him on further. 

“P-Pero I need you. Please,” you beg shamelessly, all rationale replaced by the burning desire for the man who currently had you pinned to the counter. The growl against your neck goes straight to your core as Pero drops both hands to your ass, giving it a rough squeeze before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting them around his waist, holding you up against him. Your own arms wrap around him, tangling in the curls at the base of his neck as he turns, carrying you to his bedroom. The blood in your veins courses with such excitement that you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. 

Gracelessly, he tosses you on to the bed and you bounce, grinning up at him like some Cheshire cat as he strips out of his shirt. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake up and down his figure. Taught skin covered corded muscle, something you know he worked very hard to maintain given how often he used the gym at your complex. He joins you on the bed, crawling up to you with the most intense look in his eyes. His fingers tug at the hem of your tank, tugging it up. 

“This. Off with it,” he growls and you nod, nearly ripping the offending article from your body as he watches approvingly. Reaching around you, he quickly undoes the clasp of your bra, tossing it to join the discarded clothes. A hunger for you shines in his eyes as he takes you in, the intensity of his stare bringing a sudden shyness to the forefront of your mind. You shrink in on yourself, bringing your arms up to cover your chest, but he is having none of it. He takes your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest as he looks up at you. “ _Hermosa_ , do not hide your glory from me.” The gentle command sends a rush of adrenaline through your body and you nod, arms relaxing in his grasp. He lays you back, rough hands running up your arms and over your chest where he massages your breasts, pinching the nipples just hard enough to cause your back to arch off the bed before they continue down over your stomach, finally coming to rest on your hips. The feeling was better than anything your imagination could have possibly dreamt up. “How many times I have dreamt of this…" 

He leans over you to press a fierce kiss to your lips that quickly migrates along your jawline, following the line of your neck down to your chest. His stubble rubs deliciously against your skin, raising bumps along its path. Your fingers tangle in his hair, hips bucking up against him as he takes your left breast in his mouth, alternating between sucking, nibbling, and lavishing it with kisses until it borders on sore before switching to rain the same attention over the other. A whimper of longing escapes your lips and he glances up from his ministrations with a predatory grin before he trails kisses lower, over your naval and down to the hem of your pants. Greedy fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them off with a quick motion, your panties along with them. The cool air on your core sends a shiver rocketing through your body. 

"Such a beautiful sight,” he mumbles, his hands grabbing your hips firmly as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. You do your best to still the trembling in your legs, but to no avail as he runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. He repeats the gesture for the other side before letting go of one of your hips to drag a finger up your dripping slit, gathering your arousal on his finger. The gasp you let out is one of the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard, and he craves more. He wants to see just how many sounds he could draw from those pretty lips of yours, but his patience is wearing thin, his self control slipping. He presses the flat of his tongue against you, licking the whole of you before spreading your lips to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, running his tongue around it in quick circles. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it and he groans at the feeling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants. Your hips buck against his mouth, and he lays his arm across your hips, holding you in place. 

As he continues his ministrations, begs and moans spill from your lips in an endless, nearly incoherent stream, and each time you say his name he drags his teeth lightly over your clit, sending an electric shock through your entire body. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch until you are screaming his name, tugging harshly on his hair as you cum for him the second time, spilling over his tongue as he eagerly licks it up. He pushes himself up and off the bed, licking his lips as he watches you laying on his bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath from your orgasm, eyes hazy with pleasure. He quickly rids himself of his pants and smirks when he sees how your eyes widen at the sight of him. Opening his bedside table, he pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on, hissing at the feeling before he crawls back over your body, connecting his lips to yours. The taste of yourself on his lips draws a moan from you as you pull him against you, wrapping your legs around his waist. With a bite to your bottom lip, you feel him pressing against you. You break the kiss and gaze up into his lust filled eyes with a gaze that surely rivaled his own in terms of need and want and he hesitates, watching you. You lean up, ghosting your lips across his ear and he shivers as you speak. 

“Fuck me, Pero." 

You need say no more as your words start a fire inside of him. He presses into you and your head falls back against the pillow, your jaw going slack at the stretch as he fills you. With shallow thrusts he works his way into you until he is fully seated inside of you, his own body trembling at the feeling of your heat totally encompassing him. He groans as his head falls against your neck when your walls flutter around him, the stubble and mustache tickling at your skin. 

” _Te sientes como el cielo…_ “ He mutters against your neck, your pulse racing under his lips. 

"Pero, fuck, please move. Please, I can’t take this.” You cry as he snaps his hips against you, lifting his face from your neck enough to watch your face contort in pleasure as he sets up a brutal pace, fucking into you hard enough to shake the bed. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there which causes his hips to stutter for a moment before he regains his pace. Mutters in Spanish pour from his lips in the most gorgeous song you have ever heard as he ruts into you. When his hand moves to where the two of you are joined to rub aggressive circles against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves, you scream his name in a way that has his stomach tightening. 

“Won’t…last…” He grunts, but all you can do is nod and cry out. His face falls against your neck again, stubble scratching at your skin. His teeth find purchase against the soft flesh of your neck and that is all you need to come tumbling over the edge. Your walls bare down on his cock and he growls against your skin, pulling you through your orgasm before his hips slam against yours, the moan of your name on his lips as his own release washes over him. He stills inside you, panting against your neck as he tries to regain his breath. Your arms hold him to you for as long as you can, worried that when he pulls away this would all disappear and you would be standing in your kitchen as if nothing had happened. 

After a few moments, he slowly slips out of you, propping himself up on his elbows over you to look over your face. His face still carried that borderline grumpy look, but the edges were softened, gentle. His fingers lift to delicately trace along your jaw and your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch. 

“Of all the times I have imagined this very thing, nothing compares to the actual feeling of you…” You open your eyes to look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You open your mouth to speak, but once again find yourself at a loss for words. He gives the smallest glimpse of a smile before getting up to clean himself off, coming back to join you in bed. He gathers you into his arms, pulling the blanket over the both of you. Once again you find your ear pressed against his chest, the heartbeat strong and steady. Your mind begins to race at the thought of what had just happened, and Pero feels you stiffen in his arms. His fingers trace lines along your spine in an attempt to soothe you, grunting in question. 

“Please don’t leave…” you whisper against his chest, so quiet he isn’t sure he hears you. 

“What was that?" 

"Please…please don’t leave. You have a job now and you’re making money and can afford your own place and I know I said this was a temporary thing till you got back on your feet but,” You look up at him with watery eyes. “But I don’t want you to leave…I want you to stay here, with me.” He looks down at you with an unreadable face, his fingers stilling on your back. 

“ _Maravillosa_ … I would not do such a thing to you.” His gruff voice was still coated in the honey warmth of his own release, and it warmed you through. “I will go nowhere, I swear to you." At his words, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, relaxing into his arms to let your cheek rest against his chest. 

Pero Tovar is not a soft man. He is war hardened. A man of few words. His face always borders on a scowl when he is awake, but when he looks at you, his eyes soften just a touch, the crease in his brow smoothing ever so slightly. Pero Tovar is a grumpy Spaniard, but he is your grumpy Spaniard, and that is all that mattered. 


	2. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first intimate night with Pero has been weighing heavily on your mind. A night out with his coworkers helps to fix everything.

Life with Pero didn’t really change much after that night you asked him to stay with you. Not quickly, anyways. You both still go to work, you still prepare dinners, and he still helps to clean the house. The only real notable difference is how much closer Pero stays to you. When you cook, he is either sitting at the bar watching you, or leaning against the counter in silence as he observes. When you share a moment of down time on the couch, he pulls you to his side, draping his arm around your shoulder as calloused fingers dance along the curve of your body. But the biggest difference is that your room slowly becomes your _shared_ room. With each progressing day, more and more of Pero’s clothes make their way into your massive closet, taking up the other half that is usually kept empty. Your sheets take on his smell and his toiletries find their way to the counter next to yours.

It was comfortable.

The only thing you don’t really like is how unspoken everything is between the two of you. You had never really talked about the night of intimacy you two shared after he caught you with your pants down, literally. You had thought that labels didn’t really matter to you, but with Pero, you find yourself wanting them. You want that affirmation that what you have with this grump is more than just a mutual comfort in the embrace of another, warding off the years of loneliness. You want to be able to call Pero well and truly _yours_.

Fingers snap in front of your face and you zero back in on reality. Pero stares at you, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as his eyebrow arches in question. “You still with me, _hermosa_?” Your cheeks heat up as you attempt to stutter out a reply.

“Y-yeah, sorry, I don’t know where I went just now. What were you saying?” You scratch at the back of your neck, an anxious habit.

“I asked you if you have to work this weekend. Friday night.” He crosses his arms, leaning back in the bar chair as he watches you attempt to save dinner, the chicken looking a little crispier than you would have personally liked as you flip it.

“Shit,” you mumble, disappointed, before looking back up. “No, I don’t. I have Saturday off also. Why?” Pero just shrugs, not saying anything and it’s your turn for your eyebrow to arch. “What are you planning, _gru_ _ñón?”_

“I’m planning nothing,” he grumbles, staring you down.

“You know, I really don’t believe you,” you mutter as you grab two plates down, serving up the chicken and rice before hopping up in your seat next to Pero. Your leg rests against his as you eat in silence, the touch comfortable and familiar at this point. The silence allows your mind to wander again, thinking about just what exactly this was, what it could become. You weren’t even sure if that was something Pero was looking for. Hell, you hadn’t realized it was something _you_ were looking for until the thought of spending your life without your Spaniard caused an ache to riddle your chest. Falling hard into your daze again, you don’t realize that Pero has already cleared your places until he quickly rotates the seat of the chair, caging you between his arms as you yelp.

“ _Hermosa_ , you don’t seem well. Lost in a daze all day…” His rich, dark eyes scan your face, and you could swear that worry creased his brow just a bit more than his scowl already did. His face, his body so close to yours kicks your heart into a sprint as you press back into your seat, eyes wide.

“I just have a lot on my mind, Pero. It’s nothing.” His steady gaze holds yours long enough that you fidget in your seat, worrying he was going to call your bluff. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans forward until his lips are level with your ear. The feeling of his breath against your skin sends a shiver down your spine and you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering.

“Then why don’t I fuck you until the only thought you have is of how much pleasure my cock brings you buried inside that needy cunt?” The huskiness of his voice shatters all resolve you have and you melt, hands snapping up to grip his arms as a whimper finally makes its way past your lips. He nips at the shell of your ear before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the exposed skin. Your head falls to the side as you let out a needy whine, fingers digging into his biceps. Pero presses himself as close to you as the chair will allow, spreading your knees so he can stand between them. When a gentle beg for more passes your lips, Pero pulls back, staring down at you with a look so dark and hungry that you feel as if your body will spontaneously combust.

Strong hands move from caging you to the chair to rest on your thighs, inching up under the bottom of your shorts. The touch feels electric along your skin, raising goosebumps along it as you squirm in your seat. His hands move at a maddeningly slow pace, avoiding the heat at your center in favor of gripping your hips. His eyes never leave yours as he gauges your reaction, unable to get enough of the sight of you.

“P-Pero please, don’t tease me like this,” you beg, your eyes reflecting your need and desire as you can feel a wet spot rapidly growing in your panties. With a growl, he crashes his lips to yours, swallowing your pleas with fervor. He pulls his hands from your shorts, instead grabbing your legs to wrap them around his waist before sliding his hands under your ass to lift you out of the chair. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding yourself to him as he carries you back to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. A little nibble to his bottom lip draws a groan out of him before he lays you down on the bed, laying himself on top of you. Impatient fingers tangle themselves in the thick curls at his neck, tugging them to hear that delicious moan you pulled from him the last time you found yourself in such a position. And oh dose it work like a charm.

The guttural moan Pero lets out goes straight to your core and you wrap your legs tightly around him, pulling his hips down against your as you rock your hips up against his, desperate for some kind of relief. His hands grip your hips in response, holding them firmly to the mattress as he pulls back, eyes raking up and down your body. “Fuck…” he breathes, watching you writhe under his grasp, lost in your own desperate desire.

In a flash, Pero’s hands leave your hips only to yank your shorts off your body, tossing them somewhere on the floor. You shiver at the sudden cool air brushing over you and the predatory smile works its way across the Spaniard’s lips that raises every single hair on your body in anticipation of what he has planned for you.

“I think dessert is in order, eh _hermosa?_ ” He scoots down the bed until he is level with your absolutely dripping slit. He hums in appreciation as his fingers spread you wide, drawing a heat to your face as you grab his hair. “Look at you, so desperate for me.” How is it he could say such things so easily? His words absolutely ruined you every time, and you weren’t sure if you go get any wetter. When he finally takes your clit into his mouth, you damn near come up off of the bed, curling up around his head as he absolutely devours you. Your legs wrap up around his head, but he lets you go long enough to press your legs back against the bed, effectively holding your down, spread wide for him as he savors the taste of you on his lips. The hairs of his mustache tickle you in the most delicious of manners as his tongue delves inside of you, tearing a keen of pleasure from your throat.

You weren’t prepared for when he eases two fingers into your dripping slit, his tongue running circles around your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. Your walls clench around his fingers and he groans against you, his own hips grinding against the bed as he seeks his own pleasure. As your fingers curl tighter in his hair, you lay back against the bed, your back arched and eyes screwed shut. The sounds of him sucking and licking at you, the squelches of his fingers plunging inside of you, were absolutely obscene. And you love every second of it.

As he picks up the pace of his thrusts, you begin to pant and whine, begging for him to let you cum. You were so fucking close, teetering right on that edge, you just needed a little bit more. Reading your body, he drags his teeth lightly against your clit and you scream as your stomach tightens, euphoria washing over you. Pero continues to thrust his fingers into you, still sucking at your clit until it becomes to much and you lightly push him away, your chest heaving from the intensity of your orgasm.

As he sits up, resting on his heels, his tongue runs along his lips to collect the traces of you shining on his face before licking every drop from his fingers. You weren’t sure you have ever seen something more erotic. Your eyes dip quickly to his waist where you find his bulge straining in his pants to the point where it looked uncomfortable, and a smirk works across your lips. Getting on to your hands and knees, you crawl towards him, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. The taste of you on his lips draws a moan from you and you reach to palm his cock through his pants. He bucks into your touch, letting you have this moment of presumed control.

“You know, I still have all of these thoughts in my head, _gru_ _ñón.”_ The words tumble from your lips, dripping with as much desire and intention as you can manage as you glance up at him from under your lashes. You see the fire in his gaze flare and he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands from his pants and up over your head. His head tilts ever so slightly and your heart stutters, your breathing picking up.

“ _Que mala.”_ you shiver at his words, trembling with want in his grasp.

“P-please…” The quivering of your voice is impossible to stop, and Pero’s smirk widens. He lets go of your hands which drop to your sides and presses firmly on your chest, pushing you back onto the mattress. The gasp that earns him sounds like music to his ears. He steps from the bed to rid himself of his clothes and you move to sit up until he passes a serious look your way, with the slight shake of his head. You lay yourself back down, swallowing thickly.

Once rid of the offending garments, he slowly climbs back over you, capturing your lips in an absolutely starved kiss that leaves you breathless before reaching into the nightstand to grab out a foil. He raises it to his teeth, ready to rip it open until you grab his wrist.

“L-Let me,” you beg, and he shivers.

“Fuck…beg in that voice and I will bring you the world, _hermosa_.” He allows you to take the packet from his hand and you use your own teeth to slowly tear it open. You take his leaking cock in your hand, pumping him twice, reveling in the hiss between his teeth as he bucks into your hand before you slowly roll the condom on to him. As soon as you do, he grabs your hands, forcing you back onto the bed with your hands pinned above your head in one of his. You bite your lip in anticipation, bucking up against him and he growls, running his other hand down your body before lining himself up, slowly easing in to you. Your jaw drops and you toss your head back, letting out a silent scream of pleasure as he fills you so completely. You feel his eyes on you as you revel in your own pleasure, bucking up against him wantonly. His hand grabs your hip firmly, holding your down as he thrusts into you so fucking slowly you could scream.

Squirming against his hand holding yours, you let out a needy sob, your face so contorted with pleasure and need. Pero watches you, drinking in every bit of your beauty as the sounds escaping you severely test his resolve. It’s only when your eyes open, delirious and glassy with pleasure, and your lip trembles with the ghost of a beg on them that he snaps his hips against you, ramping up his pace. He drops his head to your neck, sucking yet another mark along the tender skin there as he plows you into the matters, each thrust tearing pleasured screams from your throat.

“Yes, yes, yes oh my god, PERO!” His name on your lips because of how he fucks you drives him mad and he tilts his lips to your ear.

“So fucking beautiful, _como una diosa_ ,” he grunts, the sound of skin smacking against skin ringing in your ears. You let out another pleasured whine as his hand runs along your stomach before slipping between your bodies, rubbing your clit in languid circles, a harsh juxtaposition to the brutal pace his hips have set. Your cries of pleasure turn strangled as you arch off the bed, begging for release. Begging _him_ to let you cum. He nips at your ear, picking up the pace of his rubbing as he growls into your ear. “Cum, _maravillosa._ Scream my name and cum for me. Let the neighbors know who fucks you like this.”

That was all you needed. A blinding white light flashes through your vision as you arch up off of the bed, your walls clenching down tightly on Pero’s cock as he keeps up his harsh pace, riding you through it. Your toes curl and your fists clench as his name echoes off the walls of your room. Everything is totally him, the only thought you can bring together being how _good_ he feels, how good every point of contact with him feels. How desperately you want this to be how you always exist, totally consumed with him, by him. The whimpers and moans from your lips bring Pero to his own climax, his hips slamming against yours as he captures your lips once again, crushing his to yours. He groans into your mouth as he thrusts shallowly a few more times before breaking the kiss, gazing down at you with a smirk.

The look of you can only be described as “thoroughly fucked out,” and he twitches inside of you at the sight, knowing he’s the one who left you like this. His hand releases yours, but you don’t move, too exhausted to. As he eases himself out of you, his soft moan matches yours. He leans down to brush the hair from your face and press a kiss to your forehead before he moves to the bathroom to clean himself up, bringing you a glass of water as he returns. You graciously accept, your throat raw from your screams of pleasure. 

“And how are those thoughts now, _hermosa?”_ He settles into the bed beside you, smirking at you.

“What thoughts?” You grin back at him and he chuckles, shaking his head before closing his eyes as he enjoys the light feeling of his release relaxing his body. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him as he rests. This was one of those few times where the frown lines of his forehead smooth out, his face relaxed. He looks so peaceful and you’d never tire of seeing it. The smile on your face fades ever so slightly as your previous thoughts slowly worm their way back to the forefront of your mind. He said he would never leave you, but what if he had just been placating you? He needed a roof over his head still, what if he had just said what you had wanted to hear so you wouldn’t kick him out?

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips as you get up, sighing at feeling so thoroughly spent. Maybe a shower would clear your mind. Pero grumbles, rolling over to watch you as you strip out of the shirt that never got removed in your haste. You were still acting strange, he thought, but he wasn’t sure what was the matter. And, well, if you wouldn’t talk to him, there wasn’t much he could do. At the sound of the water turning on, he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

Under the water, you close your eyes, trying to let the droplets take your anxieties with them as they roll down your skin. You had to be overthinking things, you just had to be. Over the months you had spent with Pero under your roof, you had learned one thing; if he was displeased with something, he let you know. You needed to just…let this go, and let things develop if they were going to. With a sigh, you turn off the water, stepping out and drying off, wrapping the towel around you as you head to your dresser for a change of clothes.

Laying yourself next to Pero feels like the most natural thing in the world. His arm drapes across your waist, pulling you against him with a soft grumble before he dozes back off, and you could laugh at how often you found yourself like this, your cheek pressed up against his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat strong in his chest echoes in your ear, and your own falls into cadence as you relax against him, joining him in sleep.

For the next few days, you don’t see much of each other. Work has been keeping you late so by the time you get home, Pero is asleep, usually on the couch. He loved his security detail job, but it was physically demanding and left him exhausted pretty early into the night. It bordered on a blessing, him being asleep by the time you got home, allowing you to sneak to your room after covering him up to be alone with your thoughts and avoid his prying gaze as he still tries to figure out what was driving you mad.

Friday finally rolls around and you head off for your morning shift, leaving Pero sleeping soundly in your bed, not wanting to wake him on one of his rare days off. You are sure he had been planning something, the man had practically been GLUED to his phone for the past three days, something he rarely did. What you weren’t expecting, was to come home around lunch time to see him in the kitchen, cooking. Or, well, attempting to cook anyways. The smell of burnt sugar hangs in the air causing your nose to crinkle.

“Pero…? What…are you doing?” His head snaps up, the look on his face that of a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar before the stoic, grumpy look replaces it once again. You wander into the kitchen to see the mess he’s made. It looked like your pantry had exploded and you arch an eyebrow, staring at him.

“How you do this every night, I will never understand,” he grumbles, moving a smoking pan with two charcoal briquettes off of the burner, turning off the heat.

“You mean cooking?” you chuckle, hopping up in the bar chair across from him. “Dad taught me from before I was able to see up onto the counter. What, uh….what did you utterly destroy in that pan there?”

He scoffs, tossing the spatula into the pan that you really hoped wasn’t ruined. “It was fish. At one point, anyways.” You bite your lip to fight back the smile that wants to split you lips at how irritated he sounded, like this whole debacle was the fish’s fault.

“And…why did you do this…?” He looks up at you in response, staring at you again with that intensity that he has carried with him since the night you first saw him. It causes your pulse to quicken and you clear your throat, sitting back in the chair.

“I thought it would be…nice,” he mutters under his breath, turning to put some of the…many…dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “We need to eat before we go, anyways.”

“Go? Go where?” He turns around, still scowling as he cleans and you hop up to help him, putting away the spices that littered the counter tops.

“Out. To a bar. My idiot coworkers want us to come.”

“I haven’t been out in ages…are you sure you want to go? I never took you for the bar patron type,” you grin and elbow his side and he casts a sideways glance your way.

“William will not stop harassing me, so we should go so I can have five minutes of peace at work for once.” You snicker and nod, scraping the remnants of the fish into the trash before letting the pan in the filled sink to soak.

“I finally get to meet this William you talk so much about! That will be nice.” You swear you think you hear him let out a low growl and turn to look at him quickly before shaking off the idea. “I’ll wear something nice. I haven’t dressed up in a while.” He nods, grunting as he shuts the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary before starting it. “And we can grab a bite to eat on the way there. Maybe some pizza. Pizza is good before a night of drinking.” You quickly squeeze his hand as you walk by him, smiling. “I’m going to shower and get ready, and we can head out.” You feel his eyes follow you down the hallway and you sway your hips a little more than normal, putting on a bit of a show for him before disappearing into the bathroom.

“Are you done yet?” Pero calls from the living room a couple of hours later, his voice bordering on exasperated. “I’m turning gray.”

“Oh hush you! You can’t rush perfection!” You yell from in front of your vanity, lacquering your lips with a shimmering gloss before pinning two silver hoops into your ears. You step back from the mirror appraising yourself. A navy blue strapless dress was your choice for the night, with a wide silver accent belt and your silver, strappy heels. You wore a smokey eye that took you three tries before you were finally satisfied with it, settling on your silver hoops and thin silver choker for jewelry, your hair up in a simple, neat style. Your heels click down the wood of the hallway, your purse over your shoulder as you head to the living room. “I’m all set. Let’s go eat, I’m starved.” Pero grunts, standing from the couch before looking at you, his mouth falling open for the briefest of moments before snapping it closed again. You grin and do a slow turn. “Well, what do you think?”

“ _Guapísima_ …” He says softly, coming over to stand in front of you, his eyes raking over your body. “Gorgeous.” You beam up at him, preening over the complements.

“You’re looking pretty amazing yourself, _gruñón._ Wine red suits you.” Pero was wearing a deep red button down that he had rolled up to the elbows and some black jeans. You didn’t even realize he owned any button downs. His hair was still a mess, but it looked like he had at least tried to tame it some. You bite you lip to try and keep the lewd thoughts at bay about how amazing he would look with that button down open, hovering over you as he- Nope! None of that! No time for that! Shaking your head in an attempt to clear it, you grab your keys and head out the door. Pero follows silently, his eyes never leaving your figure as you walk in front of him.

After grabbing your pizza, the two of you make your way to the club that apparently William had suggested. It wasn’t one you had ever heard of before, but it was on the nicer side of town, so you weren’t too worried. The two of you made it in without a problem, skipping the line, and you were pretty sure it was due to Pero’s size and that scowl he still had plastered on his face. It’s amazing his face didn’t hurt from wearing the expression so much. Loud, bass heavy music filled the club, the low, flashing lights disorienting you for a minute. Pero rests his hand on the small of your back and it sends a shock up your spine as he leads you to a table near the back.

“There he is! The resident grump!” A happy looking man with dark blonde hair stands up, the lights shining in his eyes. “Glad you finally made it!”

“William. Of course we came. Now maybe you will leave me alone at work, eh _cabr_ _ó_ _n_?” William chuckles at Pero’s suggestion and shakes his head.

“Not a chance, _amigo_. After this, we’re gonna be best friends.” You giggle at the grumble Pero lets out as he guides you into the seat, sliding in after you. “Hello there, pretty lady. The name’s William. I’ve been partnered with your grumpy friend here since he joined our little security detail.” You smile and extend your hand to him, shaking it firmly as you give him your name.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Pero’s told me a little bit about you, but it’s good to finally have a name to put to a face.” You chuckle as Pero crosses his arms, scowling at William. Your left hand comes to rest on Pero’s thigh, squeezing gently in an attempt to calm him down. It was going to be a long night if the man didn’t try to relax a little.

An hour or so and a few drinks into the night, some more of William’s friends show up, including his girlfriend Cynthia. You take an immediate liking to her, and after she finishes trying to suck off William’s face, she grabs your hand and pulls you to the dance floor. You laugh, swapping stories about the men in your lives, giggling like schoolgirls. It had been a while since you’d had a girlfriend to actually talk to and you absolutely craved the attention. Pero never left the table to come dance with you, electing to stay and talk with his coworkers. Every now and then, you would feel his eyes on you and you would punctuate the sway in your hips, knowing he was watching. A shyer you would have perhaps thought twice about doing this, but after several stiff drinks, you don’t have a care in the world.

Cynthia eventually wanders off to the bathroom, but you stay on the dance floor, enjoying the bass pumping through the building. You feel someone behind you and turn with a smile, expecting your Spaniard. When you are met with the eyes of one of Pero’s coworkers, your eyes widen in surprise as he joins you in dancing to the music.

“I don’t think I ever got your name! I’m Justin!” he calls over the music. You nod and give him yours in return, smiling as you dance with him. You aren’t sure how long you danced for, or how many jokes he tells, all you remember is that he is one of the funniest guys you had ever met. You like him, and were happy that Pero was working with someone so nice. Suddenly, hands are on your hips and you jump, looking up over your shoulder to see Pero there, glaring daggers at his coworker. You rest your hands over his and tilt your head in confusion. He looks down at you before crushing your lips against his own in a harsh kiss, pulling your ass back against him. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes dart over to look at Justin again who is slowly backing away to head back to the table. Your brow furrows and you turn in Pero’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands still hold your hips, pulling you flush up against him.

“What the hell was that about?” You ask, confused as you attempt to keep the tremor out of your voice at the feeling of him through his jeans.

“I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he growls, watching your face in the flashing lights. “Like he wanted to take you right here in the middle of the dance floor.” You shudder at his words, the hard edge to them something you had never heard from him before. It sounded possessive, and it went straight to your center.

“He was just being friendly, Pero.” He scowls, leaning down to kiss you again, biting at your bottom lip roughly. You gasp and open your mouth, letting him lick into it as your tongues dance around one another, drawing a moan from you. Pero’s fingers dig deeper into your hips and you were sure you were going to have bruises.

“No. He wasn’t. I am the only one who gets to look at you like that. Me. No one else.” His possessive, demanding tone raises the hairs all over your body and you shiver, pressing yourself up against him.

“Pero…are you…jealous?” You voice is coy, a grin spreading over your face. He grunts and pulls his hips back ever so slightly before pulling you harshly back against him, earning a pleasured gasp from you. He leans down to growl in the shell of your ear.

“We are going home. Right now.” Anticipation and adrenaline flood your veins and you nod rapidly. He takes your hand, pulling you to the door with just enough time for you to wave at Cynthia at the table, making a gesture to text you. The cool night air does little to calm the heat that fills your whole body. Pero’s grip on your hand is firm, his pace brisk as the two of you make your way home. He remains silent until the front door of the apartment shuts and locks.

The next thing you know, he has your front pressed up against the entry way wall, his hand palming your ass through your dress as he slides a knee up between your legs, spreading them. His lips attach to your neck as he bites a bit more forcefully than you were use to, and you would be lying if you said the little bit of pain didn’t turn you on. You let out a lewd moan, pressing back against him.

“P-Pero, what has gotten in to you?” you whimper.

“Mine,” he hisses against your skin. “You’re mine, no one else gets to look at you like I look at you. No one else gets to know about _this_.” He smacks your ass and you cry out in pleasure, begging for more. He leans back enough to flip you around so your back is against the wall before his knee returns to between your legs, pressing up against your soaking panties, his lips pressed to yours. You grind your hips down against his thigh, whimpering into his mouth as your hands come up to grab fist-fulls of his hair. His hands greedily grope your breasts before moving down to your hips, guiding your ruts against his thigh. This time, it’s you who breaks the kiss, muttering against his lips.

“F-Fuck, Pero, I need you. Right here, right now. _Please_.” You accentuate your plea with a tug on his hair and he groans, reaching a hand down to undo his jeans. He pushes them down just far enough to free his cock from the restrictive trousers and you bat his hand out of the way, gripping his cock and giving it a few sharp strokes. He mutters curses in Spanish, digging into this pocket to yank out a condom. You reach for it as you did the other day but he yanks it away from you, tearing it open with his teeth before rolling it along his length. Strong hands grip under your thighs, hiking you up against the wall. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing back against the wall as he holds you there, yanking your panties aside before lining himself up with you. His lust blown eyes glance up at you as he sinks you down on his cock, fully seating himself inside of you. He smirks as the grip on his hair tightens, your face contorting in pleasure, and his hips move back before sharply thrusting into you.

From the start, he sets up a brutal pace, one far more frustrated than the other times he has fucked you. Jealousy brought out something entirely different in Pero, and you love it. You feel wanted, desired, needed; and the roughness it inspired in him was driving you insane.

“Fuck, _hermosa,_ you feel so good, so tight for me. _Perfec_ _ci_ _ó_ _n.”_ He ruts into you at a maddening pace, his moans coming out through clenched teeth. You reach down with one hand to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, screaming out his name as he fucks you into the wall, the lewd slapping sound of his hips hitting your only encouraging you. “You. Are. Mine. _Eres m_ _í_ _o. Solamente m_ _í_ _o.”_

“Yes, yes, fuck, YES! I’m yours, Pero, I’m fucking yours. I’m so close oh my God!” You lean your head forward to kiss and bite at his neck, leaving a matching mark on his as on yours, his scruff rubbing against your jaw deliciously. Your orgasm blindsides you and you bite down harder on Pero’s neck as you clench around him, earning a fantastic growl from him, stiffening in his grasp as he thrust into you twice more before joining you in your euphoria. You pant against his neck, twitching as you come down, your limbs starting to feel like jello. Pero’s shoulders heave as he tries to catch his breath.

Slowly, you lift your head to look at him, moaning softly as you feel him twitch inside of you. His eyes have lightened, the lust lifting with his orgasm and you smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his swollen lips. He hums against your lips, returning the kiss for a moment before breaking it to slip out of you, carefully easing you back to the ground. Your hand moves to stroke his cheek gently, and the frown eases just a bit under your touch.

“I mean it, _hermosa,”_ he mumbles, reaching up to grab your hand, holding it against his face. “Be mine. Only mine…” His eyes are nearly begging and your heart melts, every doubt and worry of the past week fading away as if they were never there. 

“Pero…of course I will be. You have me completely.” Tension releases from his shoulders at your acceptance and he leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, then your forehead.

“ _Cara m_ _í_ _a…”_ his own hand comes to brush along your cheek, smiling at the heat under his fingertips before taking your hand, leading you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. This had been a night you would not soon forget.

Translations:   
_hermosa: Beautiful  
Que mala.: How bad/naughty.   
como una diosa: like a goddess  
maravillosa: marvelous   
gruñón : grumpy  
Guapísima : gorgeous/sexy  
cabrón : Bro, asshole (slang)  
Perfección: Perfection  
Eres mío. Solamente mío: You are mine. Only mine.   
Cara mía: My darling (In this house we stan Gomez Adams)_


	3. The Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pero wants a dog, and adopting one leads to several more big decisions.

You have no idea how you had let Pero convince you to go to the shelter, you really don’t. Yet, here the two of your are, hand in hand, waiting for your turn to play with the dogs who were up for adoption.

“Pero,” you sigh, looking up at him.

“Mmm.”

“We really don’t have room for a dog right now. The apartment is too small, and a dog deserves a yard to be able to run around and play in. I’d feel so bad keeping it inside all day.” A pout pulls at the corner of your lips as Pero pulls you closer to his side, a heat flushes your cheeks. This still not something that you’re use to. When the staff member waves the two of you back, Pero all but yanks you forward as he nearly sprints into the back. You can’t remember a time ever seeing him more excited.

“We have dogs of all ages available for adoption today, mainly mutts where we have only been able to guess at pedigree.” The poor girl leading you around is nearly drowned out by the overwhelming amount of barking.

“That does not matter,” Pero speaks up quickly, and you smile.

“Fantastic. I can’t tell you how many people we had come in looking for pure breeds.” She shakes her head, opening the gate to the play pin. You can’t help the sound that comes from you, somewhere between a coo and a whine as you collapse to the ground to be attacked by the dogs. You love the furry beasts, you really do, but you just…don’t know about having one right now. Pero kneels beside you, petting the animals as they venture towards you both, the frown lines on his face lessening ever so slightly. You take pause when you hear a sonorous _boof!_ looking up just in time to be waylaid by an absolutely massive dog, the furry beast sending you sprawling flat on your back as it attacks your face with excited licks. Pero is terrified for a moment that you’ve been hurt until he hears your laughter as you try to sit back up. He helps to ease the dog off of you, distracting it as he showers it in attention and scritches.

“This dog is magnificent,” he grumbles, scratching behind her ears and you nod before grabbing his sleeve to wipe off your face. The look of disgust and disbelief has you near bursting at the seams when you look back up at him. “That was disgusting, _bella._ ” You grin at him before moving to pet the dog yourself. Overwhelmed with the attention, she flops against Pero nearly knocking him down to show her belly which you happily rub.

“Ah, yes, this one is a really sweet. She doesn’t have a name yet, came to us earlier today, actually. An anonymous drop on our front patio, kennel and everything. We think it was a case of she got bigger than the owner was expecting.” The staff member hovers over your shoulder, smiling. “She’s mostly Newfoundland, not sure if she’s a pure breed though. Clocks in about about 120 pounds, the heavier end of Newfie females.”

“She is perfect.” Hearing his comment, you open your mouth to protest as you look over to Pero, but the look in his eyes has you melting on the spot. “Isn’t she, _hermosa?_ Strong and beautiful. Like you.” Heat rushes to your cheeks as the shelter staff member bubbles about how adorable the two of you are. “Please, _hermosa_?” Your will falters under the gaze of your new boyfriend, but it’s when you look at the dog that you truly cave. The pup is staring up at you with eyes that match Pero’s, such a soft brown. She looks so happy as he lavishes her with attention, her tail wagging non-stop.

“O…Okay, Pero…we can take her home.” He reaches out for your hand, giving it a squeeze before refocusing his attention on the dog. The staffer hands you the adoption paperwork for you to begin filling out.

Where the hell were you going to be able to keep this massive creature?

~~~

“This might have been a mistake,” you sigh, dropping your face into your hand as the new companion wanders around the small house, taking in the smells. “It’s like we adopted a small horse…”

“ _Hermosa,”_ Pero comes up to you after having set out the food and water at the end of the kitchen for the furry behemoth prowling your home. “We must name her, eh? Something fitting of a beauty like her.” His hands make their way around your waist, pulling you to him as you bring your hands to rest on his chest. The skin between his eyebrows creases in serious thought. “Perhaps Esmeralda?”

“You mean like from the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“From what?” He asked, starring down at you puzzled.

“What do you mean ‘From what?’ Have you never seen that movie?” He shakes his head and you gasp, feigning offense. “That cannot be allowed. We’ll watch it with dinner one of these nights.” He just nods, clearly still confused. “As for the name…I like it, so long as I can call her Essy.”

“No, her name is Esmeralda, not Essy.”

“But Essy sounds so cute!” He grumbles for a moment about how it diminishes the name until you get tired of it, reaching up to pull his lips to your own, silencing the grump. His grip around your waist pulls you a bit more tightly to him causing you to smile into the kiss. When you pull away, you reach up and tap his nose, giggling at the way his face scrunches in mild distaste when you do.

“Fine…you can call her Essy,” he grumbles, resting his forehead against yours.

“ _Grac_ _ia_ _s, gru_ _ñó_ _n._ ” His hand moves to smack your ass lightly and you squeak, pressing up against him as a low chuckle reverberates in his chest.

“You could call me so many other things, yet still it is _gru_ _ñó_ _n_ you choose.”

“What, should I call you _m_ _í_ _n_ _o_ _vio_? _Guapo_?” You get up on your tip toes as you pull his head down so his ear is level with your lips, whispering. “ _Pap_ _í_?” You swear you hear the wire snap holding Pero’s self control together as he hoists you over his shoulder, heading to the bedroom with a sharp smack on your backside again. You squeal at the smack, face flushed hot. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing you on the bed before crawling over you, crashing his lips against yours in a needy kiss as his arms cage you underneath him. Your arms wrap around his neck, grabbing fist-fulls of his soft hair in just the way he likes. Every time Pero kisses you, you find yourself getting lost in all of it. The taste of him, the feel of his lips, the sound of his sighs and grunts as he grinds against you…it always borders on too much in the most pleasurable of ways.

Surprising him, you shift your weight to knock one of his arms out from underneath him, wrapping your leg around his hip to use your weight to roll the both of you over. You sit there straddling his hips, smirking down at him. The surprise on his face lasts only the briefest of moments before his eyes darken, hands landing firmly on your hips to drag you against his crotch. You let out a soft, needy moan, leaning down to kiss him…until you hear a whimper from outside the door and you freeze. Your eyes lock with Pero’s for a moment, and you consider just leaving the dog out there and continuing your fun until you remember that you’re a renter, and you have absolutely no desire to have the dog damage anything.

“Sorry, Pero. We may need to wait until the baby is asleep.” You grin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before removing his hands and hopping off of him. Pero grumbles something too fast, too low, and too in Spanish for you to catch, probably something about being cock blocked by a dog, before he gets up to follow you. Slowly opening the door, you’re very nearly mowed over again by a very excited, very large dog. Your downstairs neighbors were going to hate you…

~~~

It had only been a week since the newest addition to your household had joined you, but in that week you could already tell she had Pero wrapped around her paws.

“No giant dogs on the couch,” you said, only to come home literally that same night from a late shift to see your man and his dog cuddling on the couch.

“No, she can’t sleep in the bed Pero,” you had told him as he borderline pouted at you. Well, as close to pouting as you have ever seen the man with the permanent scowl get. When you stepped out of the shower a bit sooner than he had expected, you saw Pero shoo the dog from the bed as he attempted to play innocent.

But for all of the rule breaking and spoiling, Pero takes very good care of the dog. The first thing he does when he gets home after kissing you is take the dog for a walk while you cook, and it shocks you a bit just how easy it is for you to settle in to this routine. Less than four months with your grumpy Spanish man, and you are already finding it difficult to not call yourselves a family.

Pero is out on one of those walks with Esmeralda at this very moment as you slice up onions for the stir fry. Your mind wanders a bit too far from the task at hand, lost in thought about what the future could hold for you both, until you hiss as the blade catches your thumb, the knife in your hand clattering to the ground.

“Shit! Fuck!” you scream, clenching your teeth as you run to the sink, trying to avoid getting blood absolutely everywhere from the deep gash in your thumb. Your ears ring at the sight of the blood running down the drain as you try to remember to breathe. You had never been able to stand the sight of blood, especially not your own. The sound of the front door and large paws on the wood floors is a welcome relief as your knuckles turn white from the harsh grip on the sink.

“ _Hermosa_ , we’re back,” Pero calls from the front door as he removes his shoes.

“P-Pero…” you groan, hardly audible over the sound of the running water in the sink. The shaking in your knees finally becomes too much and you hit the ground, the world spinning around you as your ears ring. Pero calls your name and you’re vaguely aware of his footsteps as he runs to the kitchen. A string of profanity slips from his lips as he grabs a towel, wrapping it around your hand as he cradles your body against his. “B-blood,” you try to explain, praying the contents of your stomach decide to stay where they should.

“Shhhh, _cari_ _ño_ , I’m here. It’s alright, it is just a small cut. I will take care of it, and of you.” Once your breathing has evened out, Pero stands, helping you up as you cradle your hand to your chest. Your thumb was starting to throb and you bite back tears because of it. He ushers you to the bathroom, scowl firmly in place. To anyone else, he would appear irritated at you, but you could see the concern that was present in his gaze. He sits you on the toilet seat before rummaging in the medicine cabinet for the alcohol and bandages. “Don’t look.” Calloused fingers gently turn your head away before he takes off the towel, quickly pouring a bit of alcohol on the wound. You whimper and try to pull your hand away out of reflex as it stings, but his strong grip around your wrist keeps you firmly in place as he blows on the cut, the cool air soothing a bit of the sting. Once it’s dry, he wraps a bandage around it, making sure the cut is pressed firmly together. He brings your bandaged hand to his lips, kissing it gently before kissing each of your knuckles, gazing back up at you. Tears shine in your eyes partially from the throbbing of your thumb, and partially from the embarrassment of what just happened.

“Are you alright, _bell_ _eza_ _?_ ” The concern lacing his voice causes you to sniffle as you try desperately to fight back the tears, nodding.

“I was daydreaming and the knife slipped… I really hate blood Pero.” Your bottom lip trembles and he brings his hand to gently cup your cheek. Leaning into the touch, your eyes slip closed for a moment, the pad of his thumb running along your cheekbone to soothe you. When you open your eyes again, he is watching you with that same intense stare, like he’s working to memorize every single line of your face. As if at any moment you would slip away from him.

“I will clean the kitchen and finish dinner. You rest with the dog in the living room, alright?” All you can do is nod, the tenderness in his gruff voice so soothing you just want to melt into it. The corner of his lip quirks in a small smile before he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He helps you to your feet, holding you steady as you slowly make your way to the living room. Essy is already on the couch, and she lets out a whine as Pero helps you over, easing you down. You immediately cuddle up to the fluffy beast, nuzzling your face into her fur. Ok…yeah, the puppy can be on the couch, you decide. Pero pets your hair gently, whispering comforting words of affection before heading to the kitchen.

When the stir fry is done, Pero brings a small serving to you, taking his place on the very little remaining space left on the couch. You pull your feet up to offer him more room, but he just grunts, moving your legs so they rest in his lap. “Eat, _hermosa._ _Y_ ou’ll feel better.” He was right, you know he was, so with a sigh you sit up, grabbing the plate.

“It smells good, Pero. Thank you for finishing everything.” He nods, grabbing the remote to flip on the TV, not making a big deal out of anything.

“What was this movie you demanded I watch when we named Esmeralda?” His eyes flick to you then back to the TV.

“Oh, right! It’s called The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Here.” You hold out your hand for the remote and he obliges, grabbing his fork to begin scarfing down his food. You are convinced this man would never be able to eat normally. “It’s one of my favorites,” you mumble as you flip through the movies you have, settling into the sofa when you find it. The sound of the opening music always made you smile, and this time is no different. Pero sits quietly after scarfing down his food, a hand resting on your shin to rub soothing circles absentmindedly with his thumb.

As the credits roll, you look up to him expectantly. The grumpy scowl is still on his face as he turns to look at you. “Well?” you ask, curious to know what he thinks.

“The music is good. I see why you like this film.” He reaches to take your bandaged hand, leaning over to kiss it again, succeeding in making your heart flutter. “ _Bella_ , where did your mind wander to for you to hurt yourself like this?” His voice is still gruff, but softer now, concerned. “You are always so careful in the kitchen. What happened?”

You swallow thickly then clear your throat, trying to focus on the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you had been together for so short of a time, would this scare him off? Shaking your head, you decide to bite the proverbial bullet. “I was thinking about us,” you whisper, your gaze falling on your connected hands. When he says nothing, you continue. “I was thinking about moving. The dog needs a yard, a bigger home to play in. Pero, she’s over 100 pounds…we can’t keep her if we are going to stay here, my landlord will kill me. That is, if my downstairs neighbors don’t first.” You look up, the worry plain as day on your face. As always, his face is grumpy and unreadable. His thumb has stilled on your hand, causing your chest to tighten with anxiety. The silence in the living room is stifling, you just need him to say something, _anything_. Even if it is a no, that’s better than this insufferable silence.

“You want to find…a home together?” His voice is soft, layered with surprise and a look up to his face kicks your heart into a sprint. You’re sure he can hear it with how loud the beat sounds in your own ears. His face has softened as he watches you, the lines smoothing in the way you usually only see when he sleeps.

“I know we haven’t been together long, and that this is a big step, and that it’s asking a lot, and that you may not be ready, and-” Your ramblings are cut off by Pero pressing a sweet yet firm kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, the corner of his lips pulls up is a small smile.

“ _Bell_ _eza_ _…hermosa…la luz de m_ _í_ _vida. C_ _á_ _lmate_. I think you are right.” His thumb resumes its gentle circles against the back of your hand as your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Y-you mean it?”

“Of course. Esmeralda needs a yard, as you say. And I think it will be good for us to have a home together. I want a home with you.” He squeezes your hand again, his face drawn and serious. For a moment, you don’t move, processing what he has said. When all the gears finally click into place, you scramble to shift around throwing your arms around his neck with a borderline reckless abandon, hiding your face against his neck. His hands rest in the small of your back, holding you against him. You try to find the words to tell him just how you feel, but they fail you, so you elect to just hold yourself closer to him, breathing him in in the silence. You feel him rest his head against yours as he heaves out a content sounding sigh, leaning back against the arm of the sofa as he holds you to his chest. You would be happy to stay like this forever.

Pero’s hands trace lines up and down your back before fiddling with the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding up underneath it to drag his fingers across your skin. You shiver against him at the touch, pressing a gentle kiss above his pulse point. You feel the vibration of the growl in his chest more than you hear it, and it draws a smile to your lips. Leaning back, you brush his bangs from his forehead, excitement coursing through you at the sight of his eyes darkened with need, eye as intense as ever.

“You know,” you purr, resting your hand on his jaw, the stubble tickling your palm. “The furry one is asleep so,” you lean forward, nibbling at his ear, “we can go pick up where we left off earlier.” The words barely have time to leave your lips before Pero is standing, your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. Your giggle in his ear sends a shiver down his spine. God how he loves that sound.

Rather than tossing you on the bed like he normally does, this time he takes a seat, your legs still around his waist. He brings a hand to your cheek, guiding your lips to his in a desperate, tender kiss. You bring your hands to cradle his face gently, eyes closed as you drink him in, lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving in time with yours as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You rock your hips ever so slightly against him, swallowing the soft moans the action pulls from him before leaning back, looking up at him with the softest gaze you can manage. His hands rest on your hips, gently massaging them as he lets you set the pace, not wanting to rush you tonight. “You know,” you whisper as soft as you can manage, not wanting to shatter this moment with words far too loud. “If someone had told me that this would be my life four months ago, I would have laughed at them.” Pero smirks and nods, pulling your hips more firmly against his own, earning him a satisfied hum.

“Had you not shown up that morning, I was going to leave this city.”

“Then thank God I happened to bump into you. Literally.” The coy smile on your face paired with the sultry slur of your voice fans the flame of desire inside Pero, and his hips buck against your, earning a delicious gasp from your lips as it pulls a low groan from his throat. Your hands brace on his shoulders as you rock yourself against him, whimpering with need. “L-lay back,” you nearly moan and he does as instructed, staring up at you with those dark eyes you adore so much. The way he watches you every time makes you feel like the most beautiful woman on the earth and sends your confidence soaring without fail. “I want to make you feel good tonight.”

“ _Hermosa,_ you always make me feel good,” Pero mumbles, watching as you tug your shirt off over your head, eyes falling immediately on you chest. Your skin flushes hot as you smirk, running your hands up his stomach to his chest, leaning in to kiss him quickly. His mouth follows yours as you lean back again, hands traveling down to his pants to quickly undo the button on his jeans that are rapidly becoming too tight for his liking. You swing your legs off of him, tugging his pants down right along with his boxers, discarding them on the floor.

“Scoot up on to the bed.” The borderline commanding sound in your voice causes Pero’s cock to twitch, bringing a smirk to your lips as he does as instructed. Tugging off your own pants and panties rather gracelessly, Pero makes use of the moment to rid himself of his own shirt before you’re crawling back over him like some tigress stalking her prey. He has never seen such a confident hunger in your eyes before and he can’t even begin to describe the way that look is affecting him. You crash your lips against his, wasting no time in nibbling at his bottom lip. He gladly parts his lips for you, your tongues dancing fervently as you revel in the taste that is so entirely and uniquely him. You drag your nails down his chest causing him to shiver against you, his hands snapping to your hips.

“Easy, tiger,” you whisper against his lips before beginning to kiss your way down his jaw, occasionally leaving gentle nips as you trail down his neck, over his chest. Your teeth graze against his nipples at which Pero draws in a sharp breath, his hand reaching up to grip your hair. Smirking against his skin, you continue on your path downwards, kissing down his stomach which tightens under your touch. You follow the path of soft hairs below his navel down to the curls at the base of his cock, your chin brushing against him. Your eyes flash up to his as you grin, neglecting his cock in favor of kissing along the inside of his thighs, nibbling gently at the skin in a manner not unlike the way he first teased you when he had his head between your legs. Pero’s legs tremble under your touch, his hips bucking ever so slightly as the neediest moan you have ever heard from him escapes his lips, followed by a frustrated growl.

With a grin, you finally take the tip of his cock into your mouth, moaning softly at the taste of him. The hand in your hair tightens for a moment before relaxing, trying to remember to be gentle with you as your mouth renders him unable to form a coherent thought. Achingly slowly, you begin to bob your head along his length, hollowing out your cheeks as you do. With every movement, you draw another beautiful sound from your Spaniard; a moan, a grunt, a hiss…and it all sounds like music in that deliciously deep voice of his. You need more. Taking a deep breath, you lower your head, taking him as deep as you can till your nose nestles in the curls at the base his cock. Pero lets out a choked sounding moan, eyes snapping down to you, wide with surprise. He tugs at your hair, trying to ease you off of him as he feels his release rapidly coming on.

“ _C-Cielo_ , fuck, I-I’m gonna…” You resist the tugging on your hair, looking up at him with hooded eyes as you reach up to cup his balls. The look in your eyes as you play with him is enough to finally send him toppling over that edge, a string of profanities, both English and Spanish, pouring from those beautiful lips of his. His hand in your hair tightens its grip as he goes rigid underneath you as he fills your mouth. When he finishes, you slowly let him out of your mouth as he watches you with a look of disbelief and desire. That coy smile still on your face, you swallow, opening your mouth to show him.

“ _Dios…”_ His low and husky voice sends a shiver through your body as he sits up, the hand in your hair pulling you to him for a rough, sloppy kiss. He groans at the taste of him on your lips, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back until the tender flesh slips from between his teeth. _“_ _M_ _í_ _princessa perfecta…”_ His voice drips with arousal and desire, low and gruff in his chest.

“Let me ride you, Pero.” The confidence and desire in your voice surprises even you, but you know it has the desired effect when you feel him twitch against your thigh, already getting hard for you again.

“You will be the death of me, _m_ _í_ _cielo…”_ He smirks at you as he lays back, hands resting on your hips. You lean down to kiss him again, unable to get enough of the taste of his lips or the feel of his skin against yours. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he works himself back up. You reach down to ghost your fingers over him and he jumps in your hand, bringing a smirk to your lips. Quickly reaching for a condom in your nightstand, you sit back to tear it open with you teeth. Pero’s eyes ravage your body, a flush across his cheeks and chest as he waits for you. Deciding you are taking too long, he runs a hand across the front of your hip and over your mound to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.

“F-Fuck,” you hiss, a tremble running through your body as you lean forward, bracing yourself against Pero’s chest. When your eyes find his face, he’s smirking at you with a look that you are sure you had been wearing only moments before; confident and self assured. With a shaky hand, you grab his wrist, grinding against him a few times before pulling his hand away. You grasp his cock, quickly rolling the condom on to him as his hand grabs your hip again. The low hum that you pull from him as you do sends a warm tingle straight to your absolutely dripping core and you raise yourself up on your knees, shifting forward just enough to slowly lower yourself down on to him. Your head falls back as you breathe out a moan when your hips meet his, fully seating him inside of you. Pero’s nails dig into your hips as he fights to hold on to his self control and not flip you over to pound you into the mattress.

Bracing your hands on his chest, you raise your hips ever so slowly before sliding back down. Your eyes find Pero’s, just as delirious and drunk on pleasure as your own. You let out a heady sounding moan at the sight of that handsome, grumpy face creased in the pleasure that you provide him, quickly speeding up your pace, the sound of skin slapping skin as you bounce on him made all the more lewd as your arousal drips from you, coating his thighs. The moans and whimpers of pleasure tumble from your lips in a near constant stream, only to be punctuated by a near scream as Pero works to meet your thrusts, hips lifting up against you as you slide down against him. You slump forward, overwhelmed in pleasure and he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him as his hips snap up against you at a relentless pace.

“P-Pero, oh fuck, Pero!” You whimper against him, turning you head to bite at the skin of his shoulder, earning a hiss from him, his hips stuttering for the briefest of moments.

“I want – hng- I want you to cum for me, _nenita_. Please,” he growls in your ear, nipping at the earlobe as he slams up into you. You nails dig into the skin of his chest, leaving half-moon divots in the feverish flesh.

“S-Say my name,” you beg, desperate to hear it tumble from his lips. And when it does, your body tenses and you see stars as your orgasm washes over you. You clench down on Pero, ripping a guttural moan from his lips as he chants your name over and over again like a prayer. He slams into you only a few times more before his own orgasm seizes him in throes of pleasure, holding your hips tightly against his own. You whimper out his name at the feeling of him twitching inside of you, closing your eyes to press your forehead against his shoulder as you pant for air.

As the aftershocks of your orgasms abate, he lowers his hips slowly to the bed and you raise your face from his shoulder, smiling fondly down at him. A sheen of sweat covers his near glowing skin, his lips parted slightly as he tries to regain his own breath. His fingers have resumed the gentle lines along your back as he calms down, softening inside of you. You lean in to press a kiss to his left cheek, then the right, then his nose before finally his lips. One of his hands moves to cradle your head gently as your lips work against his at a lazy pace. Breaking the gentle kiss, you rest your forehead against his, a smile gracing your lips.

“You’re stunning, _m_ _í_ _cielo,”_ he mutters, his hand resting on your cheek. You giggle softly, turning to kiss his palm.

“And you take such good care of me.” Your reply has the flush returning to his cheeks as he grumbles something about it being his job, only causing you to giggle more. You bite your lip as you lift your hips just enough for him to slip out of you, slide off of his chest to cuddle into his side. He takes care of cleaning himself up with the tissues you conveniently decided to start keeping on the nightstand before he pulls a blanket over the both of you, cradling you to him as he leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I can’t wait to make a home with you, _m_ _í_ _cielo,_ ” he murmurs against your hair, causing your heart to skip a beat. You press a gentle kiss to his chest and hum softly in acknowledgment.

“Regardless of where we end up, so long as I’m with you, I’m already home.” Pero’s arms tighten around you at your confession, your voice thick with pleasure and heavy with sleep. You hear his heart speed up in his chest, and you smile. He gives you a grunt in agreement, but the beat of his heart gives away his excitement. Slowly, your eyes slip closed as exhaustion overtakes you.

“ _Te amo…”_ The words are but a breath, and you aren’t even sure you actually heard them as you dance on the precipice of unconsciousness. You could ask him tomorrow, you think, as you slip into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~

Translations:  
 _Bella -_ Beautiful  
 _Hermosa -_ Gorgeous  
 _Gracias –_ Thank you  
 _gruñón - Grumpy  
_ _mí novio –_ my boyfriend  
 _Guapo -_ Sexy  
 _papí –_ (Do I really need to translate this?)  
 _cariño_ -Darling  
 _Belleza_ Beauty  
 _la luz de mí vida. -_ the light of my life  
 _Cálmate –_ Calm down  
 _cielo –_ literally: “sky.” used to mean “heaven”  
 _Mí princessa perfecta –_ My perfect princess  
 _Nenita –_ Baby girl  
 _mí cielo –_ my heaven  
 _Te amo -_ I love you (used for lovers)


	4. And it All Comes Crashing Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just a normal day, it’s crazy how fast things can flip on there head. Pero learns some disturbing news that has him rushing to the best hospital in the sate, looking for you.

When you awake the next morning, the bed is empty and Pero’s side is cold. He must have been up for a while. A frown tugs at your lips, a bit disappointed in the fact that you didn’t get to wake up in his arms today. Something itched at the back of your mind, something you needed to ask Pero about, but you just couldn’t bring it to clarity. Like a fading dream, the thought quickly slips away from you.

The sound of the front door opening and closing finally draws you from bed, and you grab one of Pero’s shirts, slipping it over your otherwise nude body as you head out to greet him. Esmeralda nearly takes you out as she bounds down the hallway, heedless to Pero’s calls for her to stay. You smile as you tangle your hands in her soft fur, nuzzling her neck. “Good morning, my pretty girl,” you murmur against her fur.

“And good morning to _my_ pretty girl.” Pero’s soft, gruff voice sends shivers down your spine as his hand finds its way to the small of your back. You let go of the dog, letting her run off to find her toys. As you stand, your lips are promptly captured by Pero’s as he turns you to press your body against his. A pleasant hum comes from you as you mold yourself tighter to him, your arms finding their way up and around his neck to play in the hair at the base of it. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips briefly before he nips at your lip, pulling back just enough to gaze down at you.

“ _Princessa_ , we have work today. No time for games this morning.” You pout, tugging at the hair at the base of his neck in just the way he likes and his eyes flutter as he groans, pulling your hips against his. “ _Díos..”_ he hisses, a hand sliding up under your – _his-_ shirt.

“Just ten minutes.” You stand up on your tip toes, pulling his ear to your lips. “Please, _papí_?” You purr in a voice that borders on sinful, loving the growl it pulls from his chest. He turns you, pressing your back against the wall of the hallway, his leg sliding up between your knees to grind against you. A moan spills from your lips as you grind back down against him, desperate with desire for him. Your eyes slip closed and you feel his hot breath on your ear, his breathing heavy.

“Let me hear that voice. _Como m_ _ú_ _sica._ I will leave you a mess, until the only thing you think of today is me, and how badly you need my cock.” You whimper at the huskiness of his voice, absolutely dripping with lust for you.

“P-Please Pero…Please fuck me.” You whine as his hand lifts the shirt you wear, pulling his leg away to replace it with his fingers, rubbing quick circles on your clit that have you bucking off the wall.

“No, no, _nenita_. You do not get that this morning.” His growl in your ear as he nips at it has you quivering, your arousal dipping down your legs. “Only my fingers this morning for you.” You keen, writhing against him, desperate for some kind of relief as he continues his relentless assault on your sensitive bundle of nerves. His chest presses up against yours as his lips finally find your own, eagerly swallowing your moans and cries as he pleasures you as he slides one finger inside of you. You clench around him, grinding down against his hand as he breaks the kiss. “Cum on my hand, _hermosa_. Do it.” Your eyes flutter open and the hunger you see in his drives you wild with need as you frantically rut your hips against his hand, your stomach coiling tight.

“P-please…Please say my name,” you whimper, your voice almost inaudible. A confident smirk works across Pero’s face as he leans in, lips brushing against your ear. Your name sounds like pure sin as it pours from his lips, pushing you off the edge as you gush around his hand. You would have hit the ground had he not been pressing you firmly against the wall. You cry out and cling to him, washes of pleasure rolling over you as you tremble, your legs feeling like jelly. He draws his fingers out of you, bringing them to his own lips to lick them clean, a groan resounding deep in his chest.

Carefully, he pulls you away from the wall, brushing your hair from your face as he keeps one arm around your waist, securing you to him. “ _Bella_ , we need to get ready for work, _s_ _í_?” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and you nod, a blissful smile across your face. “And when I come home tonight,” he whispers into your ear again, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear. “Then I can give you all that you desire.” You whine, your knees shaking a bit as he guides you back into the bedroom, seeing you off to shower as he gets ready for work. He’s ready long before you, calling out a goodbye to you as you continue to shower, and you call out in reply, a smile still on your face. You wouldn’t mind that becoming a regular part of your morning routine, not one bit.

Finally finished getting ready for the day, you make your way to the living room to see Esmeralda having already claimed her spot on the couch. You laugh softly, going over to pet the fluffy beast, scratching behind her ears in a way you had discovered she loved. “Be a good girl today, alright?” Big, dark eyes look up at you as her tail thumps against the cushions. “When we move…we’re going to need to get you your own couch to sit on, I swear.” You ruffle the fur on her head once more before making your way out the door, locking up behind you.

Not much happens at your job, really. You meander through aisles, adjust products, help lost customers or confused new highers. Occasionally you have to head up front to help sort an issue out. Management here was really a very cushy job, and for that you’re thankful. It was the definition of uneventful, bordering on lackadaisical. And just like he promised, Pero had consumed the abundant free space in your mind that this ease allowed with every licentious fantasy of what he would do to you when you got home that your brain could conjure.

A bloodcurdling scream breaks you from your daydream, the candle jar once in your hand shattering on the ground. Without a second thought you bolt around the endcap, heading to the front where the scream came from. “What’s the ma-” You’re cut off by an earsplitting bang. The air is forced from your lungs as you’re shoved back, the feeling reminiscent of the time your grandmother’s donkey had startled and kicked you, shattering two ribs and leaving you bruised for a month. Your ears ring, eyes wide as the ground races up to meet you and you are now only vaguely aware of the screaming of the other clerks along with more gunfire. Every breath burns as you try to remember how you’re suppose to breathe normally, curling around yourself. When did you get wet, you wonder. You can feel the wetness through your shirt, gathering under you. _Oh,_ you think, the edges of your vision blurring, _I’m bleeding._ The simplicity of the statement should have shocked you, the tiles around you rapidly turning crimson, but you could only focus on one thought; _Pero will be worried._

The world slips from your grasp, the sounds around you fading from a roar to a murmur to silence as you begin to feel cold. _It hurts to breathe_ , you think, _am I drowning? Is this what drowning feels like?_ Your thoughts go fuzzy, when suddenly there is another, different and sharp pain rubbing along your sternum. Your eyes lazily open, hazy and unfocused. Everyone sounds like they’re under water. Maybe you _were_ drowning. _That’s silly,_ you think, _you’re not even at the pool._ Someone is talking to you, asking you questions. You’re so tired, you just want to sleep. Why won’t they let you sleep? Just five minutes. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt.

~~

Between security details, work is slow for Pero. He and his coworkers sit around in the dining area, playing poker while the news channel plays in the background. When he got this job, he had no idea there would be so much _waiting_. Waiting on the detail to show up, waiting on a call for someone needing some sort of private security…it was so much _waiting._ It’s especially hard today, given your needy little stunt this morning. All he can think of is you arching against his body, those delicious moans pouring from your lips like the very nectar of the gods. The fact that _he_ is the one to make you sound so lewd, to make you come completely undone while you sing out his name like a prayer brings him such euphoria, he never wants it to end. You were like a drug, and he was addicted.

Lost in his own thoughts, he’s startled by William nudging him in the ribs. He glares at the pretty blonde, and if looks could kill, William would be securely in his coffin already. “What,” he grumbles, laying his hand down on the table. William nods to the TV where a live news update is running, red and blue lights flashing from cop cars and ambulances alike.

“Isn’t that where your girl works?” William asks, concern creasing his brow as several stretchers are brought out, the bodies on them blurred for the privacy of the injured, and Pero feels his blood turn to ice in his veins.

‘ _Five employees have been injured in today’s armed robbery, three thought to be in critical condition. Local authorities have said they have caught two of the perpetrators, one still at large. He is to be considered armed and dangerous.’_ The words fade from Pero’s hearing as he stands, the chair toppling over behind him with how quickly he moves. In a blink, he’s out the door, William yelling from behind for him to wait. He had to get to you, he had to make sure you were okay.

“Tovar, dude, you can’t drive like this!” William grabs Pero’s shoulder only for the burly Spaniard to wheel around, smacking his hand away with a growl on his lips. William takes a cautious step back, hands up defensively. “Let me drive you, I caught the name of the hospital they’re taking the injured employees to. You can’t drive like this man.” The fire in Pero’s eyes is unlike anything William has seen before, and honestly, it kinda scares him. Heaven help those robbers if Pero ever found them. Pero stops for a moment, the cogs turning in his head before he nods. William visibly relaxes, fishing his keys out of his pocket before turning to run to his car, Pero hot on his heels.

The drive to the hospital is tense, Pero staring dead ahead in silence, his phone clenched in his hand. William doesn’t dare to break the silence, focusing on getting to the hospital, his worry for you as well sitting heavy in his stomach. As they pull into the ER drop off, the car hasn’t even come to a stop yet before Pero is throwing himself out the door, sprinting inside with disregard to William’s protests. Calloused hands slam down onto the front desk, scaring the poor nurse behind the computer. He gives your name, his tone harsh.

“Where is she?” he growls, his phone finally giving, the screen cracking. The nurse stutters an attempt at a reply, asking his relation as her hand hovers over the phone, a twitch away from the security button. William runs through the door not a moment too soon, skidding up next to his intimidating counterpart. The nurse’s eyes flick between the two in matching t-shirts, thoroughly confused.

“The shooting,” he takes a deep breath, putting his hand on Pero’s shoulder to keep him quiet. Pero shrugs it off with a grumble. “The one at the store a few blocks over. One of the employees is his partner. We saw the live news, we just want to see if she’s okay.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t give out information to anyone who she isn’t related to at the moment.”

Pero grits his teeth, speaking through a snarl. “She has no relatives. No siblings. Her parents died in a car accident.” He speaks slowly, trying to stay in English through the anger. Going off in Spanish would be no use now. “I live with her. She is _mí novia.”_ He closes his eyes for a second. “Girlfriend,” he corrects himself, opening his eyes to look back at the nurse. Her eyes flick again between the two men as she picks up the phone.

“One moment, gentlemen.” Pero pushes away form the counter with a growl, one hand finding rest on his hip while the other rubs his face. Pero was no stranger to dangerous situations, and he was certainly no stranger to loss. Hell, he had lost more than most will ever have in his life. What he was a stranger to was fear. Deep, bone-chilling fear. It was a foreign concept to him. When he fought in the war, he couldn’t care less what happened to him, he had no one and nothing to go home to. When he had been mugged or beaten, stranded or left for dead out in the cold winter nights he simply closed his eyes and let whatever the governing powers of the universe decided to let happen, happen. But this? These cold fingers constricting ever tighter around his heart, the ringing it brought to his ears and the clarity it stole from his mind…this was new to him.

Pero Tovar, for the first time in his life, was afraid.

The click of a phone on a receiver draws his attention back to the nurse, now looking significantly calmer. “She’s here, yes. She’s in the OR at the moment.” Pero’s heart skips a beat, his breath freezing on his lips as he waits for the nurse to continue. “Her condition is critical, and I’ve asked a doctor to come and speak with you while she’s in operation. I don’t know how long she will be there, but after she will be moved to the ICU, and you’ll be able to visit her.” The look in the nurse’s eyes was sad, pitying, and Pero hates it. He wants to scream, to fight something, _anything_ to save you. But all he can do is sit there and wait while you fight for your life in a small operating room.

“Tovar, c’mon man, let’s sit down, ok?” William puts his hand on the Spaniard’s shoulder, urging him away from the desk to wait on the doctor. “This is the best hospital in the state, some of the best surgeons are here. She’ll be ok, you gotta believe in her.” Pero _did_ believe in you. He knew from the first time he saw you, when you called those idiots away from beating his ass that you were a fighter, as much as you didn’t seem it. But he can’t seem to shake this fear that holds him, and he has no idea how to cope.

When a man in a white coat comes out, Pero shoots to his feet along side William. The doctor waves them back, leading them down the hallway to a private room. None of this helps to ease Pero’s worry. After the door shuts behind the doctor, he takes a deep breath, looking the two in the eyes. “It’s my job to give it to you straight. It’s not good. She’s lost a lot of blood, already almost through her first transfusion. Thankfully, the bullet hit her right side, so we didn’t need to worry about heart damage, and that’s the reason she is still alive.” Pero’s fists clench tight at his side, William drawn tighter than a bow string beside him. “It shattered one of her ribs and fractured the top of her sternum, perforated the lung, and lodged itself in the lung tissue. It wasn’t a clean injury, they’re currently working at removing the bullet as well as shards of rib from the lung tissue and will close the perforation after. She’s intubated at the moment, and will remain so for the next couple of days while we keep her in a medically induced coma to allow her body to heal. She’ll have a plate or two attached to her rib to help with it healing properly and to keep it from re-perforating her lung.”

“But she’s going to pull through, right?” William speaks the question Pero cannot bring himself to ask, his hands trembling at his sides.

“She’s young and strong, so her odds of pulling through this are high, but until she’s out of the operating room, I can’t give you a solid answer. My last check in, her blood pressure and heart rate were good, and the hemorrhaging had been stopped. All positive news.” William nods, nudging his friend.

“Do you have any questions for the doctor?” Pero simply shakes his head, not trusting his voice. The emotions running through him confused him, scared him. He just needed to see you, needed to see you were alive and okay. This had to be a dream, and he wants to wake up. The doctor nods, leading them from the room back to the waiting area. William shakes the doctor’s hand as Pero walks to an unoccupied corner of the room, sitting down with his elbows rested on his knees, hands folded as he rests his face against them to glare at the ground. “She’ll be ok, Pero.” William takes a seat next to him, pulling out his own phone to get a hold of Cynthia. She would want to know about this.

Pero doesn’t reply to his friend, doesn’t move or unfix his gaze from the spot on the tile. The analog clock on the wall ticks time away, and each soft ticking sound of the second hand is thunderous in his ears. He would rip it from the wall if he could. Instead, he remains statuesque, eyes doing their damnedest to bore a hole right through the floor of this accursed waiting room. William eventually stands, greeting Cynthia as she runs in with her heels clicking obnoxiously on the tile floors. They’re talking, he can hear the worry in Cynthia’s voice, but he still doesn’t move. Can’t move.

_Por favor, mí cielo…No me dejes…_

“-var. Tovar, buddy, c’mon.” Pero’s head shoots up, a scathing glare cast at William as the man shakes his shoulder.

“What?!” he snaps, harsher than needed, these tumultuous emotions boiling below his carefully constructed exterior.

“She’s out of surgery, we can go see her.” William’s eyes are kind as he talks. “I told you she’d pull through.”

Pero lunges to his feet, nearly stepping inside the footsteps of the nurse leading them to the ICU bay they have you in. The room looks so…sterile. You’re laying there in the stiff sheets, sitting up at an angle with a tube in your mouth, the machine next to you breathing for you at a slow, rhythmic pace. Wires and tubes connect all over your body, machines beeping, displaying more information than Pero even wants to begin to comprehend. It all smells like cleaner and medicine.

But it’s your face that stands out among everything. It’s your face that breaks him.

You’re pale as the sheets you lay in, your lips thin and chapped around the tube in your mouth. Your eyes are sunken in behind blue-tinged lids. If not for the steady beep of the heart rate monitor…he would have thought you gone from this world. He pulls up the chair next to you, delicately lifting your hand into his so as not to disturb the wires connecting you to the machines. How could it be that just this morning you were so vivacious, glowing in the morning light as he watched the pleasure in your beautiful eyes? How could it be only a few hours ago that he held you to him, warm and laughing, yet now you lay here looking as a corpse? It had only been a few hours.

“Did the doctor explain everything?” Cynthia’s quiet voice breaks the rhythmic silence of the hospital room, but Pero’s eyes never leave your face. William once again speaks for his friend.

“Yeah. It was pretty bad, from what he told us. But they had a plan for the surgery. She’ll be in a coma for a few days to let her body heal without any interruptions.” The worried woman nods, watching your face. Your eyes don’t dance under your lids as they do when you dreamed, Pero notes. “Pero, take off until she wakes up.” The Spaniard’s head shoots up, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can’t. Rent…And the dog…” Confliction draws his face tight, the ridges between his brows prominent. He had to help take care of things, he couldn’t just drop life to sit here with you, he knows that. Esmeralda needed to be cared for, and the money was needed for rent. Both of you not working simply wouldn’t do…

“The boss is my brother, man. I’ll work something out with him, we’ll take care of you.” Pero opens his mouth to protest when he feels a hand rest on top of the one holding yours. His eyes dart to see Cynthia’s hand there before he looks back to her.

“We’ll take care of Esmeralda, Pero. Give us your house key and we’ll make sure everything is taken care of at your place so you can stay here with her. You should be here when she wakes up.” He falls silent, taken aback at the kindness offered to him. It’s something he is far from use to, with the life he use to live being as it was. He tries to find a reason to protest, tries to find a reason to decline their offer, but when his eyes fall back on you, so frail beside him, all reasons fade away. He couldn’t leave you here.

“Fine,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. His free hand digs in his pocket, pulling out the keys to toss them to William. “Her food is over the washer. Leash by the door,” he mutters as he brushes your hair from your forehead, his hand resting at your temple.

“We’ll take care of her, I promise.” A knock on the door frame interrupts Cynthia before she can say any more and the three look to see a nurse standing at the door, an apologetic look on her face.

“Visiting hours are over, you’re going to need to come back tomorrow morning. You need to rest too.” Her voice is gentle, but Pero feels as if she has just slapped him across the face. He just got to see you, just got to know you were still alive, and now she expects him to leave?

“I…I can’t.” William looks at Pero, hearing how broken his voice sounds before looking back to the nurse.

“Surely there must be something that will let him stay…Some reason he can stay here 24 hours.” If there was one thing William was good at, it was charming people. He could lay on a voice so honey thick and molasses rich that almost anyone would cave to his requests. And if ever there was a time to lay it on thick, it was now. 

A blush tinges the nurse’s cheeks as she stutters, “I-I’m sorry, but it’s hospital policy after 10…” Her eyes look back to the man holding your hand. She had watched him when he came barreling in, ominous and, to be honest, scary. His face was hard and angry, she knew just by looking at him he had seen too much for any one lifetime. But seeing him next to you, holding your hand as if it would shatter if he breathed on it too hard, nearly broke her. “…Let me talk to the ward manager. Give me a moment.” She turns, practically running down the hallway, he non-slip shoes squeaking the whole way. The minutes tick by, tracked by the beep of your heart monitor and hiss of your ventilator, all the time dread filling Pero’s entire being. He couldn’t leave you here alone. He just couldn’t. After what feels like an eternity, the squeaky footsteps mark the return of the nurse. She knocks quietly before sticking her head in. “Sir?” she calls gently, drawing Pero’s attention. Every fiber of his being screamed at him, terrified of what she was about to say.

“ _No lo puedo…”_ he whispers, desperation tinging his voice.

“The ward manager says you can stay, but you need to try and sleep. She’s going to come by in a little bit and wants to see you sleeping. If you aren’t, she’s going to need to ask you to leave.” She looks to William and Cynthia. “I’m afraid I still need to ask the two of you to leave until visiting hours reopen.” The two nod, thanking the nurse as she leaves to finish her rounds, Cynthia standing to join William.

“We’ll be by tomorrow, Pero, okay?” Her gentle voice does little to comfort him as his eyes fall back to you. He nods, realizing he doesn’t have the strength to respond. William comes and rests a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning to escort Cynthia out of the room, leaving him alone with you and these infernal machines.

“ _Hermossa…la luz de mí vida. Vuelve a mí…por favor, vuelve…”_ Tears prick in Pero’s eyes, a feeling he had almost forgotten. His chest begins to feel tight as a tear rolls down his cheek, landing on the sheets beside your hand held so gently in his.

In the dark of the hospital room, for the first time in nearly twenty-seven years, Pero Tovar cries.

~~

You feel heavy, but as if you are floating at the same time. Everything is dark, and no matter how much you try to open your eyes to see, you simply can’t. But you can hear. It’s muffled, like whoever is talking is behind a door, or under water, but you can hear it. A gruff, deep voice that sends a pleasant warmth coursing through your body, alighting your very soul. You know this voice, you know you know it. But you can’t…quiet…remember. You’re too tired to remember. Maybe a bit more rest will help.

The next time you can hear the voice, it’s clearer. Still soft and gruff, it matches the feeling of a warm yet rough finger dragging across your knuckles. Back and forth and back and forth. The voice talks to you in a language that sounds like music, smooth and lyrical. You don’t understand it, not all of it at least, but it makes you smile. You want to hear more of it, more of this musical sound that is so pleasing to your ears. But first, maybe just a little more sleep.

The third and final time you feel like you’re floating, you feel alone. No warmth, no voice. Just…alone and floating. You don’t like it, being alone. Especially not in the dark. You yearn for the voice that greeted you every time you were here. Where was that beautiful voice? _Volví, amor._ There’s the voice. So lovely and rich, gruff and deep. You could sleep in it, surrounded and cradled by it. And you think you will do just that.

~~

Pero stays with you the whole time you are induced in your coma, only leaving your side to use the restroom or grab a small snack. The color was slowly returning to your skin, your eyes less sunken in. He talks to you while you sleep, more words than he ever recalls having said to anyone in the past. But you’re not just anyone, are you? Your hand is always in his, his thumb tracing patterns along the skin. Occasionally, your hand would twitch in his, and he would let a small smile pull at his lips. Once, he swears he sees a ghost of your smile pull at the corners of your mouth, but as soon as he thinks he sees it, it’s gone.

As the days go by, his words that pour so readily from his lips for you become more ardent. His pet names change; the things he tells you shift. _Cariño, belleza, hermosa…_ he still says these things, but all the more often does _amor_ slip from between his frowning lips. All the more regularly does _mí corazón_ join his list of endearments. And how much more often does _te amo_ ghost from his lips as he slips into a restless sleep at your bedside?

The day finally comes for the ventilator to be removed as the coma inducing drug is removed from your IV drip. The tube down your throat is replaced with an oxygen line under your nose, the harsh sound of the machine breathing for you replaced with a soft hiss of the oxygen tank by your bed. You would wake up on your own, slowly, they tell him. And so he waits, refusing to leave your side at all now until he sees your eyes flutter open.

Your throat feels like sandpaper and your chest aches, feeling as if an elephant has decided to take up residence there. Breathing is…harder than you feel it should be, and every inch of your body aches. Your eyelids are heavy, but you can tell that there is a bright light behind them. Far too bright for the light of your room. Where are you? You hear what sounds like a soft snore and try to smile, recognizing it instantly. Pero must be asleep beside you, wherever you are. A groan scratches in your throat, burning as it passes to your lips as you do your best to rouse yourself. What is that infernal beeping?

“¿ _Cari_ _ñ_ _o?”_ That voice. That beautifully gruff, musical voice that had surrounded you while you were floating. It was your Pero. You should have known it was him. With monumental effort, you slowly open your eyes, wincing at the florescent bulbs above you. A strong, calloused hand squeezes yours gently, thumb rubbing soothing patterns back and forth across your knuckles. You let your head roll to the side, your vision a little blurry as you search for him. He’s there, right at your side, that ever-intense stare looking into your very soul. “Are you awake, _querida?_ ” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it before, laced with…is that worry? You open your lips to speak, but all that comes out is a croak that burns in your throat, so you just nod, watching your lover beside you. Relief washes over him, and you can almost see the tension dissolving from his muscles. He reaches up, cupping your cheek so gently, it’s like you’re made of porcelain and he fears breaking you. You’re content to just stay like that, just you and your Spaniard. You still feel so sleepy, and his touch is so comforting that you can’t help the yawn. The corner of his mouth pulls up in a small smirk before he leans over you, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “ _Vuélvete a dormir._ I will be here when you wake again. Sleep.” You try to return his smile, your heavy eyelids slipping closed as you fall into a blissful sleep.

Hours later, you wake again, feeling far less groggy this time but still aching all over. There is a quiet murmur of conversation in the room, and as you come around, you start catching parts of it. They’re talking about you. Broken…rib? What? You cough at the dryness in your throat, followed by a deep groan at the sharp pain in your chest at the feeling and the conversation stops. You feel Pero’s hand, unmistakable as anyone else’s, take your own oh so gently as your eyes flutter open. The familiar faces of your Spaniard and William watch you with worried looks, but the doctor at the foot of your bed catches your attention. The question must be plain as day on your face because the doctor immediately launches into what sounds like a rehearsed speech; asking how you’re feeling, telling you what happened, telling you what they did to fix you. It all left your head spinning and you turn your eyes to Pero, eyes begging for some sort of harbor from the onslaught of information. His eyes flick briefly to William who turns to talk to the doctor.

“You’re alright, _m_ _í_ _cielo._ You’re safe, I promise.” He presses his forehead to you and your eyes slip closed, reveling in the feeling for just a moment before you open them again.

“How…how long have I…?” Your voice is strained and scratchy from neglect, and breathing is uncomfortable, but you need to know.

“Almost two weeks.”

The sound you let out at his reply borders on pitiful as the memories of your last day of consciousness come flooding back to you, the heart rate monitor blatantly displaying your rush of anxiety. You had been _shot_. Your chest begins to feel tight as the doctor comes running back in, tailed by William.

“Miss, you need to stay calm.” His order falls on deaf ears as he calls for a nurse to bring a sedative. Pero’s hand finds your cheek, guiding you to look at him and instantly you’re lost in the depths of his eyes, your cheek pressing into his touch as you try and ground yourself.

“You are safe. I’m here, you’re safe,” he mumbles softly, trying to get you to focus on him. “Okay? You are alright, everything is alright.” You whimper at the pain in your chest as you try to breathe, your heart rate slowing just a touch. The doctor hesitates on applying the sedative, watching with caution in his eyes as Pero calms you down.

“I’m…safe,” you make out in barely a whisper, repeating his words back to him like a mantra to keep you grounded and he nods, giving you that so rare smile of his that makes your heart skip a beat, accentuated this time by the monitor.

“You’re safe. I promise.”

~~~

Translations:   
_princessa-_ princess  
 _nenita_ \- baby girl  
 _Como música –_ like music  
 _Díos_ \- God  
 _querida_ – sweetheart  
 _mí novia_ – my girlfriend  
 _Por favor, mí cielo…No me dejes_ … - please my heaven, don’t leave me.  
 _Vuelve a mí…por favor, vuelve_ – Come back to me…please come back   
_No lo puedo_ – I can’t do it.  
_Volví, amor_ – I’m back, love  
 _Cariño_ – darling  
 _belleza_ – beauty  
 _hermosa_ \- gorgeous  
 _mí corazón_ – my heart  
 _Te amo_ \- I love you (used for lovers)  
 _Vuélvete a dormir –_ go back to sleep  
**My conjugation skills are rusty, my Spanish isn’t what it use to be, sorry!!


	5. Let's go Homes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your recovery trudges along with Pero at your side. Hospital pain killers bring a tense air to the situation before Pero takes you home to care for you in the best way he knows how. But is it enough?

The days trudge by far slower than either you or Pero would like, and you spend most of them in a haze of pain killers laid up in your hospital bed. You hate the way the medicine makes your brain feel fuzzy and slow, like you can’t quite comprehend what’s being said to you all the time or like you’re a beat behind all the time. You find yourself asking Pero to repeat himself over and over and it frustrates you beyond belief. And yet, this drug inspired haze is far better than the searing pain in your chest every time you take a breath. You urge Pero to go home and get some quality sleep, noticing the deep, dark circles under his eyes during your times of clarity, yet he always stubbornly refused.

William had told you during one of his visits that Pero stayed here the entire time you were unconscious, refusing to leave your side, and though that warmed your heart, it worried you as well. “What about work?” you had asked him while Pero was off using the restroom and getting a cup of what passed for coffee.

“I’m taking care of it, don’t worry. You just focus on healing so you can get out of here,” he had said. You tried to push for more information, but your stubborn friend was having none of it, ensuring that the company would take care of you and Pero both. And that was the end of it.

Now, after a week of conscious recovery, you find yourself still in bed, staring at the white ceiling tiles as your fingers play in Pero’s shaggy dark locks. _He could use a hair cut_ , you think to yourself. Your eyes trail down to him laying forward on your bedside, your hand loosely held in his own as he dozes with the occasional soft snore escaping him. You know that his back must be killing him, but he never mentions it, only ever asking about you. _“How are you feeling,_ cariño? _” “Cada d_ _í_ _a eres m_ _á_ _s hermosa.” “Are you hurting,_ querida? _”_ This grump of a man is so soft with you, so gentle, it nearly brings you to tears. Your soft Spaniard, rough around the edges but with the purest of hearts. And he was laying here suffering because of you. You let out a soft sigh, wincing a bit at the strain in your chest, and Pero stirs. His dark, warm eyes catch your own and he slowly sits up, letting out a yawn.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” you tease with a slight grin on your lips. He just furrows his brow, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“The only _princessa_ here is you, _querida_ ,” he retorts, causing a heat to rise in your cheeks.

“Even when you’re exhausted you’re still sharp as a tack.” The smirk he flashes you makes your heart flutter in your chest as he sits back in his chair. Everything about him screams exhaustion, from the dullness of the light in his eyes to the slouch as he sits. “Pero…I think you should go home,” you murmur, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I have told you no, _cari_ _ñ_ _o,_ I am staying here until we leave together.” His lips downturn, as stubborn as the rest of him.

“You’re exhausted, I can see it in your eyes, in your posture. You need to sleep in a bed, your back must be killing you.” Your voice is slow thanks to the drugs, but insistent, doing your best to match his stubbornness.

“I said no.”

“ _Amor_ …Please…” Pero’s eyebrows shoot up at your words and he leans forward, watching you intently. You blink, confused, as you try to figure out what brought about this reaction, thinking back over your words. “ _Oh..”_ your voice is a whisper, your heart hammering in your chest. The word had slipped out before you could have even had a chance to think about it, these damn drugs slowing down the connection between your brain and your filter apparently.

“What did you just say?” His voice is low, nearly strained as he speaks, his grip on your hand tightening.

“…Please?” you attempt to play it off, but he just shakes his head.

“Before that, _querida_.” Why are you so nervous? Is it not clear that the sentiment would be returned? The man has stayed at your bedside for weeks now. No one does that unless there is _something_ there, right?

Taking a shaky breath, you repeat it back to him, “ _A-amor…”_ His free hand raises, trembling gently as he cups your cheek, searching your eyes for _something_ present through the haze of the pain killers.

“Do you mean it?” You have never heard his voice so…vulnerable. And yet, it is demanding, a distinct juxtaposition to the trembling of his hand against your face. Tears brim in your eyes, and you see worry flash across Pero’s face as he pulls away from you, letting go of both your face and your hand. “Did I hurt you?” The vulnerability is gone, closed off again and you shake your head slightly as you watch him stand up. “I will not push you. The medicine, it may cause you to say things you do not mean. I understand.” You try to get your mouth to say the words that you heart is _screaming_ but nothing comes out as he moves to the foot of the bed. “I will go and rest and care for Esmeralda. I will be back after.” His eyes linger on yours for just a moment, a spectrum of emotions flashing through them that your drug riddled mind couldn’t possibly comprehend in time before he turns and leaves, taking your heart with him.

The room suddenly feels much colder and much more terrifying. Your Spaniard has left. All because your own fears wouldn’t allow you to give him a simple “yes.” The tick of the clock on the wall and the beep of the heart rate monitor by the bed are suddenly too loud and your chest begins to feel tight and it grows hard to breathe. The beeping comes faster, your anxiety reflected in the monitor. Shut up, shut up, _shut up_. You barely notice the nurse running in to apply an injection to your IV until everything begins to slow down, the sounds quieting as your breathing and heart rate return to normal. Your body feels heavy as you relax back into the bed, tears brimming over and spilling down your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling. _Please come back_.

Nurses step aside as Pero storms down the hall way. He needs to leave, he needs to get out before he snaps like a bow string. His shoulders are tense, a scowl on his face as he all but runs to the doors, the image of your teary eyes seared into his mind. He had made you cry. Why did he ask you to pour out your feelings when you could barely put a coherent thought together from the pain killers? Moreover…why did it feel like you crushed his heart between your gentle fingers when you couldn’t give him the answer he so longed to hear from you. He lets out a growl of frustration as he finally makes it outside, his hands mussing his hair as he paces just outside the lobby. His feet begin to move of their own accord, taking him in the direction of home as his mind continues to run at hyper speed while his heart aches in his chest.

“Tovar?” Pero’s head snaps up at the sound of William’s voice, eyes searching for him until he sees his friend making his way from the parking lot. “What are you doing?” The concern is evident in William’s voice. _It must be strange to see me not in her room_ , he thinks. He waits until William makes it over to him, then holds out his hand.

“My keys.” His friend’s face is wary at the demand and he makes no move to hand over the keys currently in his pocket.

“Why do you need your keys?”

“I’m going home.” His voice is drawn tight, and if William were a less perceptive man, he wouldn’t have noticed it. Instead, a blonde eyebrow arches and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“And you’re choosing to leave now, after almost a month of staying in that hospital room, because…?”

“She told me to.” It’s said through gritted teeth, his gaze like daggers. “Give. Me. My keys.”

“Bullshit. She’s been telling you to go home since she woke up, but your stubborn ass stayed glued to the seat. What happened?”

“ _Amigo,”_ Pero cautions, hand still outstretched.

“No, Tovar. What happened?” William stares down his friend, not breaking eye contact as Pero tries bore holes into William’s skull with his glare. Finally, he relents, dropping his hand with a sigh. When he speaks again, it’s laden with exhaustion.

“Just…take me to the apartment. I will tell you there. Okay?” William relaxes, nodding.

“Wait out here, I’m going to go say hi to her and let her know Cynthia is going to be by later today, then we can go.” Pero nods, watching William make his way back in. _I should go_. _I should be in there with her._ His thoughts are racing and his heart is crying as he sits on the bench outside the lobby, unable to will himself to follow his friend back to your bedside.

When William returns, he finds Pero sitting with his face in his hands, fingers tracing over the scar over his eye in a nervous tick. “Let’s go,” he says gently, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Pero jolts, eyes snapping up to William. They’re heavy with sorry and weariness, and all the Spaniard can do is nod, standing up to follow.

The ride home starts off silent, William trying to think of how to start this conversation, and Pero desperately hoping he doesn’t. “They sedated her,” he finally says, staring out the windshield. Pero’s eyes snap to William, fear coursing through his veins.

“What?” he rasps, staring.

William nods, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “The nurse told me she started having a panic attack, which could have messed with her lung and rib while it’s trying to heal, so they had to sedate her to calm her down. Dude…what did you say to her?” Blue eyes meet brown for a split second before he’s looking out the windshield again.

“I…she…” he grunts in frustration, fist pounding once against the dash in front of him as he struggles to find the words.

“Easy,” William cautions, turning down the street to the apartment complex. “I’m not gonna judge you man, just tell me what you said so we can work this out.”

“She called me _amor.”_ There is a tiredness in Pero’s voice that William has never heard before, a weight that he could almost feel on his own shoulders. “I asked her if she meant it, and she started crying. So I pulled away, I did not want to push her or make her uncomfortable. And she stayed silent. I told her the drugs can make us say things we do not mean, and I told her I would be back and then I left.” He rubs his face again, a lump forming in his throat and a heavy stone of guilt settling in his stomach made all the worse when William lets out a tired sigh.

“ _Amigo_ , you messed up.” William was nothing if not blunt, and Pero is usually grateful for this, but right now, he wished for the blow to be a little softer, wincing like the words had cut him. “If you think she doesn’t love you like that just because she didn’t say it while she was under the effect of some heavy narcotics, then you’re dumber than I give you credit for.” William whips the car into the parking spot, killing it before turning into his seat to stare at his friend. Pero sits with arms folded across his chest, glaring out the front window in a deceptive calm, the twitch in he jaw the only thing that gives him away. “I know you’re in love with her, man. A blind man could see it. But have you told her while she’s been awake? While she’s been looking you in the eye? Tovar, look at me dammit.” Pero turns his head to give William a scathing side-eye. “Have you?”

“No,” he growls through clenched teeth holding back a barely controlled rage. At what? Himself? It must be. “No I have not told her while she was awake.”

“Why not?”

“Because! Because I’m…I’m…” His voice tapers off as he recognizes why he has been silent in voicing his adoration to you. He was afraid. Afraid of what he felt for you. Afraid that everything he felt wouldn’t be reciprocated. Afraid that he would bare his heart to you and you would set him down with that touch that is always so gentle, that touch that he knew he didn’t deserve, and would walk away from him. And he couldn’t bare the thought of that. He couldn’t comprehend a life without you.

“It’s probably the same for her, man,” William urges quietly when he sees the recognition cross his friend’s face. “And being under drugs is not the best time to discuss that kinda stuff. That shit’s hard enough to do already.” Pero sits back in the seat, staring at his hands and looking more defeated than William has ever seen. He reaches out to put his hand on Pero’s shoulder to comfort him. “C’mon man. Let’s get you inside. You gotta get some sleep and take a shower so you can get back to your girl. Okay?” Pero nods before wordlessly getting out of the car to follow William up to the door, taking his keys as his friend leaves him there with a gentle goodbye. _I need to go back_.

Later that evening, after the sedatives have worked their way through your blood, you lay staring at the ceiling trying to wrap your mind around today. That intense, vulnerable look in Pero’s eyes, the desperation in his voice…these are the only things you seem to be able to focus on. Your room feels cold and empty and you’re reminded of just how much you hate hospitals, how much the sanitary stench of cleaners and antiseptics burns your nose. You want to go home. You want to be with Pero. Have you not suffered enough?

“Knock knock,” comes a gentle call for the door and you turn to see Cynthia standing in the doorway with a small bouquet of daisies. “Hey there pretty lady, mind if I come in?” A small smile tugs at your lips and you nod, waving at her.

“Hey there Cyn,” you whisper. “The flowers are nice.” She grins, taking the seat next to you before setting the flowers in a small vase on your bedside table.

“I figured something to brighten up this room would be nice. Pero is nice to look at, but brightening a room is not his forte.” She grins before turning to take your hand. “Girl, your hands are freezing!”

“It’s probably from the sedative,” you mention off-hand.

When Cynthia gives you a confused look, you realize your slip up. “Sedative? What for? And by the way, where is your grump of a boyfriend?” The little smile that Cynthia’s arrival had brought to your face withers like a neglected rose and you avert your gaze. She gently calls your name gently, drawing your focus back to her. “What happened, lovely?” The tears brim in your eyes again, your bottom lip trembling as you cling tighter to her hand.

“He left,” you whimper.

“You got that stubborn bull to go home and get some decent rest? You’ve been trying to do that since you woke up, practically. Why are you upset over it sweetness?”

“B…Because I called him _amor_.” The confusion is still apparent on her face, so you continue, trying to explain it. “He asked if I meant it. And I got scared and couldn’t say yes. I couldn’t say yes to him when he asked if I meant it. And I started crying. And…and he went home! He went home, Cyn! I messed up!” The tears come freely now as the pain in your chest returns, beyond the burn of your aching lung and broken rib. She reaches out, wiping your tears and cupping your cheek.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. You know how many drugs they’re pumping you full of because of your injury. Feelings are hard to talk about when you have a clear mind as it is.” She gives you a gentle, sympathetic smile. “You know that man loves you, right? It’s plain as day that he does.”

“I…I…” Once again, words seem to fail you as you watch Cynthia, glassy eyed.

“I know, hun. You don’t need to say it to me, I’m not the one who needs to hear it.”

“What if I mess it up? What if he really leaves?”

“You won’t. And he won’t. Someone with a heart your size could never mess up something like this.” Her thumb traces lightly over your knuckles as she stands up, leaning over to kiss the top of your head before smiling at you. “It may be an unspoken thing between the two of you right now, but when you’re all mended, and not worrying about pain killer brain fog anymore, maybe you should consider changing that, sound good?” You give her a tired nod, the stress of the day finally catching up to you. “Get some rest hun, so you can go home. Essy misses you.”

“Thank you for taking care of her for us, Cyn.” You let out a small yawn, trying to keep from stretching your chest too much. “I owe you so much.”

“Don’t mention it sweets. Pay me back by getting better so we can have a girl’s day.” She smiles as she makes her way to the door. “I’ll be by later. Have a good night, okay?”

“I’ll try. G’night Cyn,” you mumble, settling in for a night without your Pero.

Sometime that night, you aren’t sure when exactly, you stir for just a moment at the feeling of someone taking your hand in their own calloused grip. “Mmmm?” you ask to the dark room, eyes not even really opening.

“Shhhhh, _m_ _í_ _cielo._ Sleep.” That gruff, warm voice is unmistakable. Your Pero had come back, just like he said he would, and now you could get some actual rest.

When the light of the morning stirs you from sleep, the first thing you recognize is the familiar weight of Pero’s hand in your own. As your eyes adjust to the light, using your free hand to rub the sleep from them, you can’t help the smile that graces your lips when you see him there, laying against the bed as he holds your hand. When he feels you stir, he slowly sits up and you immediately notice the dark circles are a little lighter and his hair is freshly washed. “You came back,” you murmur, not wanting to break the stillness of the room, and he grunts.

“I told you I would, did I not?” You nod, vaguely remembering him saying that, but happy he was here all the same. He runs his thumb across your knuckles as he watches you, face near unreadable. “William took me home. I rested like you asked me to.”

“How is Essy?”

“She misses you, _hermosa_. She wants you to come home.”

“I want to come home too…I don’t want to be in this bed anymore, or on these drugs.” Your brow furrows as you fight the haze that seems ever present since you first woke up. “I don’t like what the drugs do to me, Pero…”

“I know, _querida_ , I know. I will talk with the doctor and we can see when you can come home.” He raises your hand to his lips, ghosting a kiss across the knuckles before setting your hand back down. “I’ll be right back, alright?”

“Promise?”

“ _S_ _í_ , I promise.” He stands, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before heading out to find a nurse, returning just a moment later with the doctor who had been making regular check-ins with you.

“Well, your gentleman here says you’re itching to go home, eh?” The elderly doctor with a kind smile and laugh lines around his eyes has such a gentle voice, immediately putting you at ease.

“Yes please.” Pero reclaims his seat, lacing his fingers with yours as he takes your hand gently.

“Well, we’ve been slowly lowering the dose of pain medication in your IV drip, and you’ve seemed to be taking that in stride. A little hiccup yesterday, but everything has looked normal since then, regardless of the sedative. What I’m going to do is send you to radiology to get a chest x-ray. That will show us how your rib is doing, and we should also be able to see how the sutures in your lung are doing. If everything looks good, then I’ll give you a green light to head home, along with a list of breathing exercises I’m going to need you to do in order to make sure your lung stays strong and heals properly. I’ll also give you some oral pain medication to help that you can take as needed. It’ll help so that you can take full breaths and don’t come down with pneumonia. Sound like a plan?” _That was a lot of words_ , you think, trying to process everything that was said to you. Blinking rapidly, you give a hesitant nod and the doctor chuckles. “Narcotic fuzz. I understand. We’ll talk you through the steps as they happen, and I’ll make sure this gentleman with you has all the papers you need.” You nod, more readily able to understand that. You give Pero’s hand a little squeeze, hoping that you may actually get to go home after spending far too much time here.

After giving the doctor a soft thanks, he smiles and leaves the room, heading to set up your scan you assume. “I can’t wait to be myself again,” you mumble, letting your head fall back against the pillow before lolling it to the side to look at Pero with a small smile. “I can’t wait to go home and sleep in our bed again.”

“Our bed,” he echoes softly, giving you that nearly imperceptible smile. And that smile sparks something in you. Something these infernal meds had been inhibiting for nearly two weeks; that smoldering need that you feel for the man sitting beside you.

“I’ve missed our bed.” Heat slowly rises in your cheeks, your need emboldening you. “I’ve missed the things we do in our bed.”

“ _Nenita,”_ Pero breathes out, tensing in the chair as you bite your lip, eyes raking over him in his jeans and loose fitting t-shirt.

“Yes?” Your voice is soft, suggestive, urging him to continue.

“Be good.” His voice is drawing tighter in that familiar way that you love.

“I don’t wanna,” you whisper, eyes begging him to do something, _anything_. “I want you.” The groan that pulls from Pero is sinful, and it sends a shudder through you.

“Not here, _hermosa.”_ It’s a command spoken as a low growl that he _knows_ drives you wild. You can see the recognition of his power over you in the glint in his eyes, that normal scowl upturned into a smug smirk.

“Pero-”

“No.” It’s final as he cuts you off, leaning forward to grab your jaw, carefully turning you head to brush his lips against the shell of you ear. “Save it for our bed, _belleza_.” The whine that tears from your lips at the sound of his voice should have embarrassed you, but all you can think about is everything you know Pero can and _will_ do to you once he has you all to himself. Now if you could just get out of this infernal hospital, you’d be home free. Literally.

Blessedly, the results of the chest x-ray bear good news. Your healing is going along well, no complications to be seen so far, meaning you’re free to head home with certain stipulations. Still a little hazy from the last of the drugs in the IV, Pero takes most of the notes, asking a seemingly endless stream of questions of the doctor as you sit in your wheel chair. Since when did he talk so much? Finally, he’s exhausted his list and thanks the doctor before the nurse brings you outside to a waiting car, William leaning against the front with a bright smile on his face.

“There’s our little fighter!” he cheers, pushing off the car to open the door for you before helping Pero get you in and situated. “Girl, you scared the shit out of us, I hope you realize.” William had hesitated with any comments about it while you were still laid up, knowing that your clouded mind would miss the tease and take it straight to that big heart of yours, harboring it only as guilt, and he just couldn’t do something like that to you. Pero elects to sit in the back with you, holding your hand as William drives the two of you home.

“I’ve gotta keep things interesting!” you quip, trying to keep things light.

“Next time try, I dunno, dying your hair or shaving your head. Get a tattoo. You aren’t suppose to take go big or go home quite so literally.” A giggle slips past your lips at William’s comment and Pero lets out a quiet sigh, so happy to hear that musical sound again after fearing he may not get that chance for so long.

“Sorry, I’ll be a little more sane next time. I promise.” You catch William’s smile in the rear view mirror before your eyes find their way back to Pero. He’s just sitting there, watching you with that intense gaze he has, face neutral save the slight downturn of his lips that was ever present. If you had a dollar for every time you got lost in those beautiful eyes, you’d be well on your way to millionaire status. They make it so easy to lose track of absolutely everything, and this time is no different. A whistle to get your attention breaks your trance, and both you and Pero turn to look at William who is now standing by the open door, waiting for the two of you to head inside.

“Sorry to interrupt such intense eye fucking-” William dodges as Pero’s arm snaps out for him, an irritated grumble leaving his lips. You clear your throat, looking down as heat once more floods your cheeks while William laughs. “Let’s get you two upstairs. Y’all need some rest in something other than a hospital bed or chair.” He wasn’t wrong. Your chest was starting to hurt and you needed to be still for a bit for the aching to stop. As you move to get out, Pero all but picks you up, handing you to William who helps to carefully set you on your feet.

“Guys, I was shot in the chest, not the legs. I can walk, it’s okay.”

“I’m more worried about the drugs that are still in your bloodstream,” William retorts, and Pero nods in agreement, helping you up the stairs to the point where moving your legs to take steps is basically just for show. “Besides, you aren’t exactly the epitome of grace.”

“I resent that.”

“No, you resemble that- Ow!” You deliver a sharp smack to the back of William’s head, earning a snicker from your Spaniard.

“You deserved that, _amigo,”_ he snarks, taking out his keys. “Help her to the bedroom while I hold the dog.”

“No, other way around buddy.” You nod in agreement with the blonde, reaching for Pero who takes you in his arms automatically, pulling you close to him. “I got Essy. She and I are best buds now!” He grins, ducking inside and you can’t help but smile when you hear him cooing excitedly to her, followed by an oof and a laugh. “I got her, come on in!” Pero nudges the door open to find your Newfoundland pup effectively pinned by William laying on top of her, drowning her in scritches and belly rubs, her favorite thing in the world. Pero hurries you past her, despite your protests to stay and pet your fur baby, shutting the door behind him as he helps you to the bed.

“She could hurt you in her excitement, _cari_ _ñ_ _o._ I will bring her in in a little bit to say hello, I promise.” Your pout must not have been convincing enough, because he just gives you that small smile before going to get you a change of comfy clothes.

“Can I wear one of you shirts?” you ask softly, and his brow furrows a bit in confusion. “They…they smell like you,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed having said it out loud causing you to look down at your hands in your lap. “All I’ve smelt for about a month was that hospital cleaner smell…I want something more comforting.” Strong and gentle fingers lift your chin to look at him and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“ _Querida_ , you may wear my clothes whenever you wish.” He pecks your lips one more time before moving to pull one of his softer shirts from the closet. “Hold this, I’m going to go usher William out.” His hand cups your cheek for a moment before he turns to leave, closing the door behind him. You faintly hear him saying goodbye to William, thanking him for all of the help before the door closes and he makes his way back to you. He finds you holding his shirt to your face, reveling in the scent and he flashes that lopsided smile he has, coming over to gently take it from you. “Come, let’s get you dressed. Can you raise your arms?” You have no problem with the left but the right proves difficult, the strain on the muscles causing a dull pain to radiate through your chest as your ribs protest. He whispers sweet sounding words to you in Spanish, trying to distract you as he eases your shirt off, replacing it with his own. It’s so soft and comfortable and the smell of him all around you is overwhelming. It smells just like him and for the first time in weeks, you finally relax.

“Now your pants.”

“No, just the shirt. I don’t want anything on my legs.” Your protest causes him to raise an eyebrow and you chuckle nervously. “I don’t…like sleeping in pants…You know that.”

“ _Hermosa_ , when you sleep with no pants it’s usually because I’ve taken the liberty of removing them from you.” God, his accent made everything sound delectable.

“W-well yeah but before you started sleeping with me I didn’t usually wear pants to bed either. Now I just don’t have to be the one to take them off.”

“Unless I tell you to.” His reply catches you off guard and you stare at him, wide-eyed. That confident smirk has plastered itself across his lips, a challenge for you.

“More like if you begged me to,” you attempt to retort but you can’t shake him, he has you in the palm of his hand.

“I wouldn’t be the one begging, _nenita_.” He leans into you, kissing your lips before running his nose along your jawline to your neck, kissing down it. The patchy scruff tickles your skin in the most delicious of manners, drawing a shiver from you as his hand rest on your thighs. You bring your hands up to wrap around his neck, wincing and freezing for a split second as your chest aches. You try to relax and play it off, but it doesn’t escape Pero’s notice. He hums, reaching to carefully ease your arms back down to your sides, pulling away from you. “You should rest. The doctor said you will heal more quickly if you do.”

“But…but…” You huff in frustration, the dampness in your panties an indicator of what- _who-_ you wanted.

“No, you need to rest,” he repeats, gently easing you down on your side of the bed before tucking you in. You rest against pillows keeping you slightly propped up, also doctor’s orders, and gaze up at Pero with needy eyes. “I promise, my sweet girl, that you will get what you want after you rest.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips, then your forehead. “Do you want a pain pill?” You shake your head, wanting to see if you could go without, horror stories of opiates and addiction having well turned you off to using such things unless absolutely necessary.

“Let me try without first…I’ll tell you if I think I need one.” He nods, squeezing your hand before standing.

“Sleep well, _querida_. I’ll come check on you.”

You nod, giving him a smile as you relax into your bed, finally home and peaceful and _safe_. Pero returns your smile with his own, barely there smile before making his way out, quietly shutting the door behind him. Not too long after, you drift off to sleep.

The ache in your chest is what wakes you hours later, well after the sun has gone down. You thought you could take the pain, but now that all of the IV drip narcotics have finally worn off, you realize how painful your still broken rib is and it takes every ounce of your strength to not clutch at your chest to get the pain to stop. Trying to keep your breath from coming out in gasps, you make your way out of bed to go and find the pain meds the doctor had prescribed you. Where is Pero? He wasn’t in bed when you woke up, not even by the bedside like he had been while you were in the hospital.

When you poke your head out, you see the soft glow of the TV coming from the living room. Pero must still be up watching one of his telenovelas. You tip-toe into to the kitchen, finding your way around in the dim light cast by the TV. Thankfully, the bottle of painkillers Pero had left on the counter next to your discharge papers. Popping open the bottle, you shake one out into your hand before heading back to your room, stopping to look at Pero on the couch, out cold and cuddled up with Essy. The corners of your lips pull down in a small frown, wondering why he hadn’t come to join you, but you brush it off, heading back to the bed room to take your medicine before falling back into a much more fitful sleep.

And so the days continue on. William has insisted Pero take time off until you were well enough again to be self sufficient, and seeing as you still really couldn’t raise your right arm much, they were both in agreement that you weren’t quite there yet. Pero is the epitome of doting during these times, helping you with whatever you may need through the day, be it reaching something up high or having your pillows re-arranged, or helping with washing your hair. He was there for all of it. But every night was the same as well. He would help you to bed, help you change into one of his shirts after helping to change the bandaged on your chest, and would then lay you down, kissing your cheek then your forehead. And then he would leave. It had been days since he had last kissed your lips, and you yearned to feel his against yours again.

His mannerisms around you began to change as well, you had noticed. Where as before the accident, Pero struggled to keep his hands _off_ of you while you flitted around the apartment, now it seems like he preferred to not touch you at all, pulling his hands away as soon as he had dressed you or tucked you in. And every night to morning was the same; fall asleep alone and wake up alone. Why is he acting so different? Did he…not desire you anymore? Did the scar forming on your chest turn him off? How hypocritical given the memory that graces his own left eye. Those lewd and suggestive comments he had uttered your first day home grew fewer and farther between, until he just stopped with them all together. _Am I losing him?_

Nearly two weeks after coming home, the pain in your chest has subdued to the point where over the counter medications can abate the pain, leaving your mind clear to think. But a clear mind with nothing to do leads to a wandering mind. And a mind that wanders finds ideas it should not entertain. Clearly Pero’s change in behavior is your own fault, what else could it be? Was it because you still hadn’t said those three words that your heart ached to scream from the mountain tops?

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, looking like a mess with sunken glassy eyes and thin lips. You haven’t been sleeping well and you were clearly starting to show that. You have nightmares nearly every night. Ones of either a reenactment of your attack, waking up to a sharp pain in your chest, or ones of Pero walking out your door, his bag slung over his shoulder and a terse _adios_ hanging in the air which wakes you with tears streaming down your face. Something needed to give, you can’t go on like this. You can’t take another day of this, your bed cold and empty, your lips yearning to taste his. You need to know.

On the day that would mark your second week home, you make your decision to talk to him that night. You go through the motions of the day; eating when he makes food, accepting his help to shower though moving your arm is much easier now, sitting in the living room to read while he watches TV. “It’s time to rest, _querida_ ,” he says with a yawn, stretching in his spot on the couch before standing to help you up, ushering your to the bedroom. He’s noticed that today you are more quiet than normal, and he worries that your chest is beginning to hurt you again. “Let me help you out of this.” His hands grab the hem of your shirt to help you pull it over your head, but instead, your hands snap around his wrists, stilling his movements as your eyes stay downcast. Your name falls gently from his lips as he questions your actions.

“Pero…what did I do wrong?” Your voice is shaky and barely a whisper, not brave enough to meet his gaze just yet, not wanting to see the rejection there.

“What?” is all you get in return, the word pregnant with bewilderment and genuine confusion as he lets go of your shirt, resting his hands lightly on your hips instead.

“Was it because I couldn’t say if I meant it?” The tremble in your voice becomes more prominent now as you look up at him with glassy eyes. Those rich eyes you love so much are full of worry that borders on panic as he watches you, his mouth slightly open as he fights for the words to say.

“Mean what, _querida?_ I do not understand.” Pero hates seeing you like this, sad and broken and _scared_. And he has no idea what’s brought this on. Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? But to answer his question, all you do is shake your head.

“You don’t sleep with me. You haven’t laid with me since you brought me home.” A tear spills over, tracing down your cheek and his hand moves automatically to wipe it away but you flinch away from him and he feels his heart crack in two.

“ _Hermosa…”_ he murmurs, his hand falling to his side.

“Is it because I was so scared that I couldn’t tell you that I meant it when I called you _amor?_ Is that why you won’t sleep with me? Why you won’t touch me? Why you leave me alone every night with my nightmares and this pain in my chest? Is that what I did wrong, Pero?” Your voice is pleading as the tears flow freely now, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

_Oh no. Oh no no no, Tovar, what have you done?_ His thoughts are screaming at him as you stand there trembling, pulling away from any touch he tries to caress you with. He had hurt you, but not in the way he had feared he would. “No…No, _querida…Mí princessa perfecta._ You did nothing wrong, I promise you this.” He reaches for your face again, and this time you don’t move away as he cups your cheek gently, wiping the tears from your face. “I am at fault here…I’m so sorry, _mí cielo,_ I’ve been trying to keep from hurting you by staying away.”

You search his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth and a pain that you are sure is reflected in your own eyes. “I don’t understand,” you whimper, reaching up to place your own hand over his. His shoulders slump and his head falls forward in shame.

“I slept on the couch because I did not want to grab you in my sleep and cause you pain. I held back from touching you because each time I do, my desire for you grows and I fear that at one point I won’t be able to stop myself. And I feared if that happened that I would hurt you again.” He looks to you, and your heart nearly stops in your chest when you see his own eyes growing glassy. Your grumpy Spaniard, the most stoic man you have ever met in the entirety of your life, has eyes that are brimming with tears. “I could not live with myself if I ever hurt you…It would break me…But it seems that in trying to prevent that, I have broken you. _Mí alma_ , I am so sorry.”

How wrong you had been in your assumptions. How grossly, horribly wrong you had been, and now the man who has done nothing by try to protect you stands before you with a guilt in his eyes unlike any you have ever seen before. “My Pero…” You reach your arms up and around his neck, pulling him down to you as his arms wrap around your waist. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize…I didn’t recognize what you were doing I…I was scared and I…I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” He nuzzles against your neck, his patchy facial hair tickling at your skin as he holds you gently to him, afraid to hold too tightly.

“I always want you. I will never stop wanting you.” His words are muffled against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine at the feeling of his warm breath fanning against the column of your neck. “Until the day I cease to be, the only one I will ever want with every fiber of my being is you.” He pulls back, his hand coming up to cup your cheek once more as he presses his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes. “ _La luz de mí vida. Mí dulce princessa. Mí vida, mí corazon, mí alma. Mí amor. Te amo.”_ Your heart all but stops in your chest as you stare at the man who has owned your heart for months, wrapping your mind around his confession. His eyes watch yours with that ever present intensity, waiting for your reply as his heart hammers in his chest loud enough that he worries you may hear it.

Slowly, your hands come up to cradle his face as you stare back into those beautiful brown eyes. “ _M_ _í amor,”_ you echo softly back, pouring every bit of sincerity into the words that flutter from your lips more gently than the beat of a butterflies wing. “I mean it.” His breath washes over your face as Pero lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, his lips tugging up into a relieved smile. “I meant it then, but I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same, and the drugs didn’t help. But I meant it then, and I mean it now. Pero Tovar, I love you.” You feel his arm tighten around your waist, drawing you closer to him as his hand on your cheek, tilts your face up just enough to capture you lips in a tender, passionate kiss. Your eyes slip closed as you melt against him, drinking him in as you hands drift from his cheeks to wrap around his neck, fingers playing in the curls at the nape of his neck.

This kiss is unlike any you and Pero have shared previously. It’s filled with so much intense emotion that it brings a fresh wave of tears to spill down your face. Love. Passion. Desire. Adoration. Admiration. It’s all there in the overwhelming taste of _Pero_. It’s home, it’s safety, it’s love, and it’s all you have ever wanted. This is where you were meant to be, you’re sure of it. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes once more shine with unshed tears as he gazes at you with the most tender of looks. His lips pull up into a gentle smile, so different from the typical scowl he wears, and it warms your heart.

“Do you hurt, _mí alma?_ Any pain at all in your chest?” You shake your head, still pressed securely against your Spaniard. You take advantage of this, rolling your hips gently against his.

“No pain, Pero. My chest doesn’t hurt right now. I’m healing well.” He lets out a soft groan as you roll your hips against him a second time, his face falling against your shoulder as his fingers dig into the skin of your waist. “Will you touch me, Pero? Will you let me feel you?” You feel him tense up against you, hesitation in his eyes as he lifts his head to look at you with worry. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.” Your voice is reassuring and gentle as your run your hand softly through his hair and after a moment more of hesitation, he nods, his lips seeking out yours again as he backs you up to the bed.

Pero is by no means soft, years of the military followed by living on the streets and doing whatever must be done to get by having hardened him to most things. His exterior is hard and sullen, but with you he is gentle, every movement treating you like the worlds most precious treasure. Pero could be rough and aggressive when he slept with you, but there isn’t so much as a shadow of that present in his caress and grip on you now as he eases his hands under your shirt. You shiver as his fingertips trace along the skin just above your hip bones, slowly dragging upwards, bringing the shirt along with them as you stand with your legs pressed against the bed. He guides the shirt over your head, dropping it carelessly to the floor as his eyes traverse your body, taking in every dip and curve as his hands follow. And then it’s his lips on your skin, starting with your lips before kissing along your jaw and down your neck, stopping to suckle on the sensitive spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You head falls to the side, making it easier for him to lavish his affections as his hands rub up and down your arms. He continues down, laying kisses along your collar bone and down over both shoulders before he kisses back up to your sternum before pulling away to look down at you. Your eyes flutter open to meet his and you see that lust in them you had missed, but you see something more as well. The warmth and depth of his love for you all swirling together in his dark, beautiful eyes, and it takes your breath away.

Calloused hands trail down your body to the waistband of your shorts, slowly tugging them and your underwear down your legs, kissing the exposed skin of your thighs along the way until you are able to step out of them. He gazes up at you from his crouch on the floor and heat floods your cheeks at the intensity and intimacy of it, causing you to shuffle in place. “So beautiful…” he whispers before kissing his way back up your legs and across your tummy and chest to reconnect his lips with yours as you stand bare before him. Your lips move with his in such a familiar way, like you were made to kiss him like this.

Your idle hands busy themselves with the hem of his shirt, slipping under it to trace along his stomach which tenses under your administrations. You brush over the beginning of his happy trail peeking over the top of the waistband of his sweats and he shivers into the kiss. A smile pulls at the corners of your lips at his reaction as you slowly run your fingers up towards his chest, needing to feel more of him. He breaks the kiss just long enough to help you rid him of his shirt before he’s kissing you again, drinking you in like a man in the desert drinks from the oasis. He can’t get enough of you, and he needs to show you that. He needs to show you just how much he loves you.

A gasp tears from his lips as you palm him through his pants before quickly slipping a hand inside to grab at him, relishing in the little buck his hips react with at the sudden contact. The moment of self-gratification is cut short when he grabs your wrist, pulling you out of his pants before kissing your knuckles. “Tonight, _amor_ , let me worship you in the way you truly deserve. Let me give you what you have needed for so long and let me hear those beautiful sounds that even the angels envy.” His voice his deep and heavy with a passionate desire that makes you swoon, your knees shaking ever so slightly. You can’t help but nod, succumbing to that voice, to that gaze, to Pero. He presses another slow kiss to your lips as he pushes his pants down, kicking them off once they fall around his ankles.

Slowly, gently, he guides you down on to your back on the bed, making sure to prop you on your pillows so you’re comfortable before he begins showering your body with reverent kisses as he holds himself above you. From your neck to your breasts no skin is left untouched and he stops only to attend to your breasts, teeth grazing over your nipples in the way that he knows you love. He hums in approval against you skin as your fingers find his hair, knotting themselves in his thick locks. Before moving any further down, he kisses around the small bandage still on your chest with feather light kisses. Once satisfied, he continues down to your tummy kissing over its expanse as he works his way to your hips. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he pointedly ignores your aching core in favor of kissing down your legs all the way to your toes before working his way back up.

“ _Amor,”_ you plead, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, but needing him so desperately somewhere else.

“Shhh, _mí alma_ , I will care for you.” His hands rub gentle circles on your hips as he settles between your legs, draping them over his broad shoulders. His warm breath fans over your center before he presses a feather light kiss against your outer lips, nose barely brushing your curls. The whimper that alone draws from you tests Pero’s resolve, but he holds fast, leaning in to kiss you again and again until your desperately calling for him, begging for him to give you more. When he finally complies, parting you just enough to run his tongue from your aching entrance all the way to your swollen and sensitive clit, you very nearly come up off the bed as the pleasure rockets through you. Pero hums against you, satisfied by your reaction as he begins to work you, slow and gentle with small sucks and kitten licks on your clit while your hands tighten in his hair. How you had missed this.

When he slowly eases one finger inside of you while his sinful mouth pays attention to your clit, you keen, hips bucking up to meet him and your pussy clenching down on the welcome digit. The thrusts of his finger are languid and gentle as he works you before slowly adding a second finger. You moan out his name, deep in your throat and in return he picks up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster as his fingers curl to find that spot that drives you absolutely crazy.

“Oh fuck! P-Pero, please, right there!” you gasp, your back arching off the bed as he smirks against you, picking up his pace yet again as he repeatedly hits that spot, urging you towards your release. The taste of you on his tongue brings him more pleasure than he ever thought something like this could and he desperately wants to taste your unraveling. From the way your body writhes and the incomprehensible string of begs and praise and sounds of pleasure that fall from your lips in such a gorgeous harmony, he can tell you’re close. His teeth graze your clit sending a jolt of pleasure through you and you snap your head up just enough to see him staring at you, watching as you come undone for him and the look in his eyes is enough to drive you over the edge. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as your back arches up off the bed, your legs locking around his head to hold him to you as he guides you through your orgasm, lapping you up as you drench his face with your euphoria. He moans against you, eyes closing for a moment as he works.

When it becomes too much, you push his head gently and unlock your ankles from around him. His small smile as he crawls up your body is unlike any look he’s given you during sex before, and you love it. You love the warmth it gives you. His lips quickly find yours in a tender kiss, the hazy glow of your orgasm sending a pleasant tingle through your body. You taste yourself on his lips and mustache, and you can’t help but moan at the taste.

“Shall we continue, _amor?_ ” he murmurs against your lips, rolling his hips against yours and you whimper at the feeling of his rock hard cock sliding against your folds. “I have more I want to do for you.” You nod, unable to form words as you cling to him, your nails already scratching at his back. He presses one more kiss to your lips before sitting back, rummaging in the bedside drawer for the little foil packet. When he finds it, he quickly tears it open and rolls on the condom before leaning back over you, hovering above you. “Are you ready?” he breathes, aching with want, and you nod as you drape your arms around him once more. He lines himself up with you and slowly begins to ease himself inside. He groans at the feeling of you around him and your head falls back against the pillow with a whimper. Shallow thrusts ease him the rest of the way inside you, bottoming out with his hips pressed against yours. It is here that he grows still, waiting for you to adjust and tell him your ready.

“Please,” comes your gentle plea and he lets out a breathy sigh, slowly pulling out before sinking back in again in strong, slow thrusts. Your jaw hangs open as you revel in the feeling, totally consumed by your Spaniard slowly driving you into the mattress. Nails dig into his back leaving crescent shaped divots in the skin. When you and Pero had sex before this whole ordeal, it was fast and hard and rough and desperate. But now… this was completely different. This was tender and passionate and so full of love. This wasn’t Pero Tovar fucking you, no. No, this was Pero Tovar making love to you. And you never wanted it to stop.

His lips find yours again and he moans softly into your mouth as your tongues swirl around one another in a messy, open mouthed kiss. His pace increases but his thrusts stay steady and strong, filling you so perfectly and hitting you in every perfect spot. You are consumed by him, totally wrapped in him. Your only thoughts are of Pero, all you can see and hear and feel is Pero. Your hips raise to meet his thrusts as you clench down on him, causing his hips to stutter for a moment before his regains his rhythm, beads of sweat beginning to break out along his brow which is creased in concentration.

“ _Mí alma…_ A-are you close?” he mumbles against your lips and you whimper, nodding an affirmative that causes him to grunt. His hand slips between your bodies to find your clit where he rubs quick circles on the tiny bundle of nerves that tears a gasp from your lips as the coil in your stomach draws tighter. “Cum, _amor_ , let go for me.” His grunts into your ear as he slams into you empty your mind of all thoughts and you’re chasing your high again, dragging your nails down his back. He hisses at the sting, speeding up once more and it’s enough to have you seeing stars. You arch up into him and scream out his name over and over again like a prayer. No Psalm Pero has ever heard would even come close to the sound of you screaming his name in pleasure. He bucks into you only a few more times, your clenching and fluttering walls tearing his own orgasm from him as he slams his hips into yours one final time, holding you tightly against him as he fills the condom. He captures your lips once again and you let out a content sigh into his mouth, arms now draped lazily around him.

When he breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to yours, chest still heaving with exertion. Your name whispers past his lips and you shiver in happiness at hearing it. “ _Te amo, mí alma,”_ he whispers in that husky voice still rich with the afterglow of his pleasure.

“ _Te amo,_ Pero. _Mí amor.”_ He smiles at you, leaning in to kiss you once more, his lips lingering on yours before he eases out of you with a soft hiss, standing up to go clean himself. You watch him head into the bathroom, high on your own bliss with a soft smile on your lips before he quickly comes back with a cloth to clean you up, and the change of dressing for your chest. Kissing your lips quickly, he kisses down to the bandage before carefully removing it, redressing it with masterful skill and kissing that once he’s done. Finally, he slips his legs under the covers, cuddling up to you as he pulls you against his chest.

“No pain?” he asks softly before pressing a kiss into your hair.

“No pain,” you confirm, your ear pressed against his chest to hear the sound of his heartbeat. Oh how you had missed that sound. You let out a soft yawn, worn out, comfortable, satisfied, and safe in your love’s arms.

“Sleep, _m_ _í_ _amor_. I will be here when you wake up. I promise.” You smile at his promise, turning to press a kiss to his chest before relaxing into his hold. Everything would be okay.

~~~~

Translations:  
“ _La luz de mí vida. Mí dulce princessa. Mí vida, mí corazon, mí alma. Mí amor. Te amo. -_ the light of my life. My sweet princess. My life, my heart, my soul. My love. I love you.  
 _Cada día eres más hermosa-_ Every day you are more beautiful  
 _Te amo_ \- I love you (used for lovers)  
 _Cariño_ – darling  
 _belleza_ – beauty  
 _hermosa_ – gorgeous  
 _querida_ – sweetheart  
 _princessa-_ princess  
 _nenita_ \- baby girl  
 _mí cielo_ – my heaven  
 _mí alma_ – my soul   
_mí vida_ – my life


	6. House Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pero opens up about his past with you, followed by the next step in your relationship: looking for a house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Angst, injury mention, death mention, blood mention, food mention, smut (PIV sex, brief finger, brief oral (M receiving))

True to his word, when you wake the next morning you find Pero laying beside you, browsing on his phone. When he feels you stir, he glances down to you with a smile tugging at his lips just enough for his frown to look more neutral. “ _Buenos_ _días, amor_ ,” he murmurs, rolling towards you just a bit to lean in and kiss you oh so gently. You hum and smile into the kiss, snuggling a little closer against his warmth, something you had missed over these past long weeks. “Did you sleep well?” The question is soft when he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to your own.

“I did. Better than I have in several weeks.” He makes a grunting sound of approval before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Pain?”

“None, just the memory between my legs of how you loved me last night.” You grin as his lips quirk into a proud smirk, his hand gripping your hip possessively. “And that is a soreness that I would happily live the rest of my life with.”

A light chuckle from deep in his chest passes between his lips before he shuffles, sitting up to look back down at you. Truly a vision is how you looked every morning to him; such a picture of beauty as if painted by the gods themselves. You smile up at him with that gentle, beautiful smile and he feels his heart pound in his chest as he wonders how someone so perfect could exist. How someone so wonderful could accept someone like him into their life. 

He’s broken from his reverie by the forlorn whine that comes from the door, the pup begging to see her humans and it draws a soft laugh from your lips. “I think she feels neglected, _amor,”_ you whisper and Pero grunts, tossing the covers from his legs as he stands, shuffling around to find his boxers. You watch him, lip between your teeth as your eyes venture no higher than the waistline. He feels you watching him, a smirk on those angel kissed lips as he glances back to you.

“Hungry for more, _hermosa_?”

“Always, but I think you need to take Essy out first. I don’t want to have to clean up a mess because we’re both… distracted.” He chuckles before coming over to press another kiss to your forehead as he helps you sit up. “I’m gonna shower while you take care of her. I’m sticky from last night.” Pero smiles and nods, eyes watching you intently as you stand. The sheet falls from your body and he feels his cock twitch in his pants at the sight. God, you’re so beautiful. Knowing full well what you do to him, you wink as you make your way past him, swaying your hips from side to side. You suppress a giggle at the quiet groan that comes from him before he steps out to be attacked by the behemoth of a dog.

For the first time in weeks, you finally feel relaxed. Pero had taken you to bed at your request, and not just that. He had solidified in your mind your resolution to find a house together and take that next step. A smile dances across your lips as you think about it and step into the shower, relaxing at the feeling of the hot water washing away the sweat of last night. You would need to find a realtor and start viewing places. But before that, you need to discuss what the two of you want in a home. What the two of you want in a future. Your heart races in your chest as you clean yourself, mind wandering ever which way. 

A future.

What do _you_ want in a future with your Spaniard? A frown pulls at the smile on your lips as you mull it over, wondering just how far out you wanted to plan with this man you had known less than a year. It’s too early to be thinking about… well… much of anything, really. You shake your head as if to clear it of the darker thoughts that try to creep in before stepping back under the water to rinse away the conditioner and finish your shower. For now, maybe you just need to focus on whether or not the new house has a nice kitchen and a backyard. The rest could come later.

Stepping from the shower, you towel off before wiping down the mirror. The frown on your face only deepens as your eyes land on the healing scar on your chest. You lightly trace over the entry wound, still rough and slightly scabbed, having not yet had time to fade. You don’t like it, hating the way it looks against your skin. Hating that it’s so plainly _there_ , reminding you every time you look in the mirror of just what happened to you. It’s not a pleasant memory, one you would much sooner forget. Lost in thought, you don’t hear Pero return with Essy and jump when there is a light knock on the bathroom door.

“ _Amor?_ Can I come in?” You let out a breath as you try to calm your heart before reaching over and opening the door, looking back at the mirror with a frown. Pero’s brow creases when he sees the look on your face, scowl even more firmly in place. “Is something wrong?” he asks softly, standing behind you with his hands on your hips as he watches you via the mirror. His fingers trace small circles on your bare skin as he watches you and you relax slightly in his hold.

“The scar,” is all you say, your fingers tracing along the rough tissue. Pero’s face twists slightly in confusion, eyebrow raising.

“What of it?” You drop your hand with a sigh, resting your hands against the counter as you stare into the sink, silent. “ _Amor,_ what of it?” he asks again in a tone much softer. Tears prick in your eyes and so you screw them tightly shut, hands balling into fists on the edge of the sink.

“I don’t like it,” you rasp out, your body starting to tremble in his hold. “I don’t like it, Pero. It’s ugly.” You hear a grunt from him, one that borders on exasperation before his strong hands are turning you to face him. He lifts a hand to your chin, bringing your gaze up to his own and you try not to shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“Ugly, _hermosa?”_ he grumbles and you attempt to nod, chin still in his hand. “Then is this mark over my face ugly? Or the marks over my chest and back? Am I ugly?” Your brow furrows and you frantically shake your head.

“No! No, Pero, you are the most handsome man I’ve ever met!”

“But a scar, it is an ugly thing, no?” He raises an eyebrow and at that moment you realize the foolishness of your words.

“No… No, it’s not.”

He nods slowly at your answer. “It is not. This scar means you survived. It means you beat whatever tried to take you from me.” He drops his hand from your chin and traces the outline of the scarring tissue. “It is a badge of honor, a mark of survival. You should wear it with pride. And now,” he takes your hand in his own, bringing it up to lay against the scar over his left eye. “We match.”

The tears brim in your eyes and spill over as the pads of your fingers lightly trace his scar. He’s right, and you know it. The corners of your lips turn up just a touch as he watches you with those piercing eyes, letting your fingers explore his skin. As you do, a question tugs at your thoughts. “How did you get this, _mi amor?_ ” It’s a question that has danced through your thoughts for some time now, but you always felt too shy to ask. Like it wasn’t your place. His scowl deepens as he rests his forehead against your own, arms around your waist, and for a moment you wonder if you’ve made a mistake by asking.

“You should get dressed. You will catch a cold standing around like this.” He takes a few steps back, pulling you with him and you very nearly panic, wondering if you’ve honestly upset him.

“Pero, I-” He cuts you off with a shake of his head, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you to the bed.

“I will tell you, _amor_ , but it is a long story. The bathroom is not the most comfortable place to tell this.” You fall silent at his words, following him as he leads you to the bed that is currently inhabited by Essy and sits you down. He grabs you the clothes for the day, helping to change you as he’s done for the last month before joining you and you fluffy beast on the bed. Strong, calloused hands take your own in a gentle grip that one wouldn’t think befitting of such an intimidating man, but these little incongruencies only served to make you fall farther for your Spaniard. His thumb traces back and forth across your knuckles, your eyes following the motion for a bit before moving to his face. He looks… pensive, lost deep in thought and you can tell he is attempting to wrangle the proper words to tell you his story. He doesn’t look at you, watching your hands in his instead as his thumb traces across your knuckles.

For a moment, it crosses your mind to pull away, to tell him he didn’t need to do this and that you were sorry for intruding on his privacy. But then those beautiful, angel kissed lips part and he lets out a shaky breath that is so out of character for him that you freeze, concern taking light in your eyes as your hand squeezes the one holding your own. His dark eyes flick up to yours and you see a flash of uncertainty, of insecurity, and of guilt. “ _Amor_ ,” you breathe, reaching up to cup his strong jaw in your free hand. He leans ever so slightly into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the feeling as he swallows down his fears.

“I will tell you, and I pray that this story has you see me no differently than you do now.” There is a pleading sound to his voice. It is the sound of a man who feels he is about to lose everything and is bartering with fate to keep it. His eyes open, finding yours as his other hand comes up to take yours from his face, holding both in between the two of you. “You know some of my past, no? Odd jobs, fighting to survive.” You nod, squeezing his hands again. “Sometimes, the people who would hire me were not good people, _cielo_. And the things they hired me for were not good things. And sometimes things would go wrong.”

“Like the night I found you?” you ask quietly, encouraging, and he nods before continuing.

“Yes, but worse. _Amor_ , you need to know that my hands are not clean.” He carefully detangles his fingers from your own, his frown pulling even deeper at his lips. “ _Rojo, amor. Hay tanto rojo.”_

Your heart clenches in your chest. You know that Pero has done some… questionable things in his past in the name of survival, but to finally hear him talking about them makes it so much more real. But this is still your Spaniard, your Pero. He clears his throat after swallowing thickly and takes another shaky breath to continue. “One night was very bad. I was not long out of the army, brash and desperate. I was sent to collect on a debt owed to the man who hired me. A large sum of money, more than I have ever known in my life. It was… not to be collected in a peaceful way. But the man I was sent after was ready for me. Waiting. He and his men attacked me. I do not even remember how many there were that night.” He reaches up to rub his face before his hands fall back into his lap, his eyes cast down on them. “Too many. Far too many. They caught me and wanted to send a message. Gave me this.” He taps the scar over his eye. “They laughed as I sat there bleeding like a stuck pig. I almost lost my eye, it’s a miracle I didn’t.” You try to reach out for his hands, but he pulls them away again.

“Eventually, I went back. With backup this time. We killed them, every last one of them. The blood on the floor splashed as we walked through the warehouse and I thought I would never get the blood off of my hands. I scrubbed them raw.” He rubs at his eyes furiously, scowling deeply. “I never went back to that area, left Spain and vowed never to go back.” Your heart breaks for him, lost from his homeland and suffering in silence with the weight of his past. 

“I was a fool, _amor_ , to touch you with these unclean hands.” He balls his hands into fists in his lap, eyes still downcast. “I have killed, stolen, cheated, and lied and then thought myself good enough to have the privilege of touching and holding you.”

“Pero, please, don’t speak such things.” You reach out again, and this time he doesn’t move away, letting you take his hands in yours. “You were just trying to survive, _mi amor_. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you here, now, with me.” Dark eyes raging with so much emotion raise to meet your own and you feel your heart pound in your chest. “These hands?” You run your fingers against the calloused skin of his palms and fingers. “These hands have held me with such a tender gentleness. They’ve cared for me when I couldn’t care for myself. They’ve changed my bandages and soothed me to sleep….” You turn his hand over in your own, holding it to your cheek as you rest your face in his palm. “I love these hands. These hands belong to my love, to _mi amor. Mi alma_. These hands belong to you, Pero. And I’d have it no other way.”

“But-”

“No buts,” you cut him off. “No buts. It’s the past, okay? What you’ve done, you did to live, to survive. I am no one to judge you for that, Pero. But you don’t have to think about that anymore. Not here. Not with me.” His thumb traces against your cheek, eyes still tumultuous as he watches you.

“Not… anymore.” His voice is low in his chest, soft as he holds your gaze. “You are not scared of me, _mi alma?_ Not afraid of what I have done? What I am capable of doing?”

Your brow pinches in concern and you shake your head, scooting closer to him so you can lay your legs across his lap as you nestle his other hand in your lap. Your gentle breath washes over his face and sends a tremor down his spine as he revels in your closeness. The desire to reach out and pull you against him is overwhelming, but he hesitates, betraying his lack of confidence. “Pero Tovar, if I were scared of you, I wouldn’t let you share my bed. If I was afraid of what you were capable of doing, I wouldn’t have offered you my home as yours. And if I was afraid of what you have done, then I would be a hypocrite.”

The Spaniard is silent, watching your face and searching your eyes for any sign of fear or uncertainty that he is so used to seeing when people look at him, but instead all he sees is concern and the love you feel for him in your beautiful eyes. The tension he had been holding in his shoulders finally lets go, and his hand moves from your cheek to cradle the back of your head as he pulls your lips to his in a gentle kiss. A kiss that says all the words that he can’t bring himself to say at the moment. A kiss that he prays conveys just how much he cares for you, how much he loves and trusts you.

Your hand lets go of his in favor of wrapping around him as your eyes slip closed. It isn’t often that Pero showed vulnerability, not even to you. He always has this rough exterior he keeps up, even if his gentle touches or the way he holds you at night betray the tenderness that lies beneath the surface. He murmurs sweet phrases in his mother tongue into your ear, and showers you with praise during your intimate moments. But even with all of that, he has never shown true vulnerability. Not until now. And your heart skips a beat at the realization of just what this means for you, and for him.

You finally break the heady, passionate kiss and Pero rests his forehead against yours with his hand still cradling your head. “What have I done to have fortune favor me like this?” he whispers and a smile tugs at your lips.

“I’m the fortunate one, to have you here in my life. I feel like I won the lottery.”

Pero chuckles softly, tilting his head again to give you a quick kiss before pulling back to look into your eyes once more. “ _Marivillosa, mi amor._ You are the most incredible woman I have ever met.”

You move to reply when an indignant sounding bark calls your attentions back to the behemoth of a dog laying on the bed. “I think someone is wanting attention,” you laugh as you pull your legs from Pero’s lap, turning to cuddle with Essy.

“ _Ay, mi perrita.”_ He turns, joining in on the cuddle session with belly rubs and little endearments. It warms your heat to watch this burly, grumpy man absolutely fawn over this furry creature. It’s a side of him very few would see.

“You know, _amor_ , we really need to find a bigger place for her. One where the neighbors won’t complain of heavy dogs jumping off of furniture.” You lay your head against Essy’s side, smiling as Pero continues his affections. “I had mentioned finding a house together before… the accident.” Your heart skips in a rather unpleasant way at the recalling of that day, but you brush it aside. “Maybe we need to start looking for one. Call a realestate agent and get some idea of what we want.” Dark eyes turn to look at you, brow slightly pinched.

“This is really what you want? With me?”

Your heart breaks a little at his uncertainty, and you scoot closer to lay your hand over his. “I’m certain that it is, Pero. I want you and me and our giant dog in our own little house with a front and back yard and neighbors far enough away that we don’t have to worry about being overheard.” You flash a playful grin that he returns with a glint in his eye.

“We will need sturdy counter tops and strong walls, _mi cielo_.” He scoots closer to you, his voice dropping an octave as he hovers his face just out of reach of your own. “Because I plan on taking you against each and every one of them. Make it so that no matter where in our house you are, all you can think of is how much pleasure I gave you there, how I made you scream my name.” You clench your thighs together, letting out a soft whimper when he pulls away with a smug grin. He gets up quickly before you can reach out for him and you very nearly whine in protest.

“ _Calmate_ , _mi amor._ I will take care of you, I promise. But after work, _sí?_ I told William I would come see him today to work some now that you are able to take better care of yourself.” He holds his hand out for you, and you take it before immediately wrapping yourself around him. You rest your chin against his chest, pouting up at him with innocent eyes. “It is important, _mi alma_. I will come home as soon as I can, I promise you.” The pout doesn’t leave your lips as he cranes his head down to kiss you gently.

With a huff, you let him go before calling for Essy to get off the bed. She is nothing if not obedient, hopping off and lumbering into the living room. “Well, while you’re gone I’ll contact a few agents to see who can take us to see some houses later.” Pero grunts in approval behind you as the two of you make your way to the kitchen to get you some breakfast. “Ideally we can be out of here before the next lease starts, so I can cancel it. I just don’t know what area I would like to move out to.” Your eyes lock onto Pero’s back moving under his shirt as he pulls the bowls down for cereal.

“ _No me importa, amor_. As long as I am with you, I am happy.” He flashes you a smirk before pulling out the frosted flakes.

“You’re such a charmer.”

“Only for you.” He sets your bowl in front of you before pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m going to head to work now. I will not be gone too long, I promise. I am sure William will chase me out as soon as he can.”

“Tell him I say hello, please.” Pero nods, moving over to grab his weathered leather coat to ward off the oncoming cold of the changing seasons. “And Pero?” He stops, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow and hand on the doorknob. “I love you.”

The corners of his lips quirk up, his posture softening. “I love you too, _mi alma_. I will be home soon.” With that, he’s out the door, locking it behind him. As the door closes, Essy lets out a long, dramatic sigh as she plops down at your feet.

“I know baby girl, I miss him already too.” You quickly finish your cereal before hopping up to get your laptop. “Why don’t you help mama find someone to help us find a new home, hm? You want a big back yard to play around in?” Her tail thumps against the ground before she hops up, following you to the couch. The old furniture creaks under her weight as she hops up beside you, taking up a majority of it. You nestle your feet in her fur as you settle in to do your research. The pup settles in, eyes slipping closed as she swiftly drifts off. Bringing such a massive creature home had made you nervous at first, and you dreaded the thought of potentially having to take her back, but now the thought couldn’t be farther from your mind. She’s made a little home in your heart, and you can’t imagine a home without her.

“Let’s see who is reputable around here….” It doesn’t take long for you to settle on one of the higher rated agents in the area, reaching out to her email to set up a day to meet. Satisfied with your work, you close your computer and set it aside, reaching over to pet Essy. “You’ll have a new home soon, sweetheart. We’ll find the perfect place for all of us.”

It doesn’t take long for the agent to reply to you, setting up a chunk of time Friday to take you and Pero around to look at a few properties. You spend the rest of the day flitting about the house cleaning to pass the time in between taking Essy outside. 

When Pero finally makes it home, you’re in the bedroom turning over the sheets. A pair of strong arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you back to his chest as he nuzzles against your neck. He presses gentle kisses against the skin of your neck and you let your head roll to the side to give him more access. “I missed you,” he murmurs against your neck between his kisses and you smile, resting your hands over his own.

“I missed you too, love.” Your hand moves up to thread through his soft locks, scratching gently at his scalp and he hums in content. “How was work?”

“Would you be upset if I killed William?” he grumbles.

“Sweetheart, you just went back to work. You can’t kill him yet. No matter what stupid thing he says.” You turn in his arms to wrap your own around his neck, cradling him to you. “What did he say this time?”

“He’s just an idiot.” The chuckle that rumbles in your chest brings a soft smile to Pero’s lips as he holds you, head buried against your shoulder as the day fades away until all that’s left for him is you. Your gentle fingers in his hair soothe any remaining stress of the day and he can’t help but think how he wants to be able to come home to this, to you, every single day.

“I have some good news,” you murmur as you press a kiss to his hair. “I found an agent to take us around on Friday. It’s the first step to finding a new home.”

Pero lifts his head from your shoulder, looking down at you with that beautiful softness that is reserved for only you and Essy. “I will tell William I need Friday off, then, so that we can go.” A strong hand comes to rest on your cheek, calloused thumb stroking along your cheekbone. “A new home….” The words hang in the air after parting from his lips, full of hope and longing. And you? Well, you feel it too.

Friday finally rolls around and you find yourself at the front door dressed in a winter coat with your purse across your shoulder as you wait for Pero. When he finally makes his way down the hall, you have to swallow down the desire that builds nearly instantly. Pero had locked himself in the bathroom this morning claiming he needed to look more presentable. His stubble has been growing out, and before he went into the bathroom he boasted a scruffy beard with his hair curling over his ears and at the base of his neck. You quite like the scruffy, rough look, but Pero is a stubborn one and wouldn’t be swayed by your asking him to keep it. Now, as he makes his way towards you, he’s shaved down all but a peppering of scruff along his chin, and trimmed his mustache. The more wild ends of his hair have been clipped back, the top still long enough to tousle lightly. He looks… well… good enough to eat. 

“Well, well. Finally finished?” you tease in an attempt to hide the desire welling inside of you.

“Hush, _amor_ ,” he chides, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against him. “Don’t think I did not see the way you looked at me just now.” He leans down, capturing your lips with his own before dragging his teeth along your bottom lip. It pulls a groan from you as your hands ball into fists against his chest. His chuckle against your lips is rich and deep and it shows that he knows full well just what he does to you. Your eyes flutter open to meet his when he pulls away and you’re met with that smirk that drives you absolutely wild. “I do not think the agent will be pleased if we’re late, _hermosa_.”

“Fine, but when we get back, we finish what you started.” You lean up on your tiptoes to nip at his lip and his fingers dig into your hips. When you fall back flat footed, he looks down at you with eyes glinting with lust.

“I promise, _querida_.” And with that, the two of you are out the door to the car, heading off to meet the agent at the first house.

In all, you visit four different properties that fit the generic specifications you’ve sent your agent, but nothing seems right. You can’t envision yourself in any of them and the disappointment that begins to weigh on you only serves to deepen the frown on Pero’s lips. He’s been quiet today, letting you be the one to speak to the agent, but after the fourth house he leads you back to the car. He presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles before turning to go speak to the agent himself. The agent whips out her phone, seemingly looking for something before showing the screen to Pero who simply nods. She smiles, tucking away her phone before heading to her car as Pero returns to yours, finding you confused in the passenger seat.

“What was that about?”

“You’ll see,” is all you get in reply, a playful tone underlying his voice as he pulls away from the curb to follow the agent’s car. She leads the two of you to the other side of town. The buildings here are older, colonial, some of the first to be constructed before the city truly got established. You rest your head against the window, watching the small yet elegant homes pass by one by one until Pero brings the car to a stop along the curb in front of one with two beautiful oaks in the front yard. Sitting up, you toss him a perplexed look and he just smirks, getting out. You follow suit, taking his hand as you walk over to the agent.

“One last try, yeah?” she asks, tone chipper. How she maintained that all day is beyond you, and the thought alone exhausts you. Pero gives your hand a gentle squeeze as he leads you up behind the agent to the quaint little house. It’s a colonial two story with a covered porch and patio, complete with porch swing. “Maybe this one is more your style.” With that, the agent opens the door and allows the two of you to enter first. A soft gasp passes through your lips as your eyes widen at the interior. It’s… stunning.

The front foyer opens up on the right to an open living area complete with a stone fireplace and to the left is a dining room. A wide open kitchen sits at the end of the hall on the left, complete with walk-in pantry and plenty of counter top and storage space. Up the stairs are the bedrooms; a master and two smaller rooms and the gears are already turning with ideas as what to do with them. The master bathroom is amazing, complete with claw foot tub. You vaguely hear the agent talking with Pero about the layout and the age and the three beds and two and a half baths, but you’re too entrenched in exploring every inch of the house to listen too closely. Pero barely catches you as you run past him to the back yard to investigate it, the agent chuckling at your enthusiasm.

“ _Mi alma,_ calm down. You are like a child.” He gives you a gentle smirk, one that anyone else would have missed and you pout.

“I want to see the back yard,” you protest, tugging lightly on your arm to break from his hold.

“Oh the backyard is lovely! All of the houses in this neighborhood are built on one and a half acres, so you have plenty of space. This property happens to have garden beds out back from the previous owners, as well as trees along the perimeter.”

You nod excitedly along with the agent, tugging at Pero again to get outside. He finally relents, letting you go and you all but run to the back, throwing the door open. You’re met with a cute covered back porch with plenty of space to set up for gatherings. The yard is huge, the agent really wasn’t exaggerating. Slowly, you make your way to the edge of the porch, stepping down the stairs to the lush green grass. The trees around the perimeter block most of the chilly fall wind. It’s perfect. Almost too perfect.

Pero’s arm winds around your waist as the realization that the asking price for a place like this must be astronomical settles on you, and you turn to the agent with a forlorn gaze. “How much?” It’s barely a whisper, and Pero pulls you tighter against his side in an attempt to comfort you. When the asking price she lists is within your budget, you feel tears prick in your eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re joking?”

“It’s no joke, ma’am, I promise. And, I think I can get it lower too, what with all the detail work the house needs on the moldings and whatnot.”

“What do you think, _amor?”_ Glassy eyes turn to look up at the man next to you, lip trembling. You had brought him through here once on your way back from a nice dinner, pointing out the houses and what you loved about them, but that had been months ago. “You said you liked these houses here. You like this one too?”

He remembered. He remembered that small detail from _months ago._ Not trusting your voice, you nod before wrapping your arms around his middle and burying your face against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him as he looks up to the agent standing there looking like she’s in the middle of watching her favorite soap. “Put in an offer for us, as soon as possible, _por favor_.”

She nods, pulling out her phone and stylus to get to work. “Well, I’m certainly glad we found the one! It’s been a long day. The two of you head home and I’ll be in touch when I hear back about the offer, hopefully with good news!” You peek out from Pero’s chest just enough to give her a smile and nod of thanks before she turns to head inside. “After the two of you leave, I’ll lock up. Have a good evening you two!” She grins, disappearing through the door to give you both some privacy.

Oh so gently, Pero leans back, lifting your chin to look at him. He wipes the tears of disbelief from your face, smiling down at you. “You remembered,” is all you’re able to croak out through a voice thick with tears.

“ _Claro, amor._ You said you loved these houses. How could I forget something you have told me you loved?” He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“God…. Pero, I love you so fucking much.” You reach up, wrapping a hand around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He hums softly into it, holding you against him a bit tighter as the kiss takes his breath away with how full of passion it is. When you break the kiss and lean back, your breathing is a bit heavier, as is his, and a blissful smile dances across your parted lips.

“I love you too. Now, let’s go home, _sí_? We have unfinished business.” He smirks at you with glimmering, hungry eyes and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Glad you haven’t forgotten,” you quip as you slip from his hold and take his hand to lead him back through the house. A polite wave to the agent leaning against her car ends the day’s venture as Pero helps you into your seat once again.

The drive home buzzes with tension, your hand firmly grasped in Pero’s the whole way. “I will take Esmeralda out when we get home. Go wait for me in the bedroom.” His hand squeezes yours and you grin as you bring it to your lips, kissing along each knuckle.

“Whatever you want, _amor_.” His pleased grunt is the only confirmation you need to know that was the right answer. When you arrive home, you all but sprint inside, greeting Essy with scritches and kisses as she stomps around excitedly. Pero makes his way in after you, and with the dog’s attention thoroughly taken by him, you head to the bedroom, shedding your clothes as soon as you’re there. Having been gone all day, you know Pero will want to walk her for a little bit, leaving you several minutes to change. And you have the perfect outfit.

Moving the clothes aside in your sock drawer, you pull out a small box wrapped in satin ribbon. It was supposed to be a surprise for Pero before the accident. Excitement courses through your veins as you open the box to pull out the soft black lace bra and matching panties. Simple, but elegant. You change quickly, adjusting the straps till you’re comfortable before laying out on the bed to wait for your Spaniard. It isn’t long before the door opens and closes again, the heavy footfalls of the dog matched by the eager steps of Pero. You hear him speak to her in Spanish before coming down the hall. “ _Amor,_ I-” The words die on his lips as he freezes in the door, eyes on you sprawled on the bed. A smirk plays across your lips as his eyes darken, raking down your scantily clad figure. “ _Díos_ … _,_ ” he breathes, taking a step in and closing the door behind him.

“Surprise,” you all but sing, your eyes traveling south to see the already straining tent in his jeans before looking back up to him. “What do you think?”

Pero stalks his way to the foot of the bed, looking down at you with lust blown eyes. “I think… that if you let me keep going, _amor_ , I will not be able to stop… and that I will be buying you a new outfit to replace the tatters I will leave this one in.” The low growl of his voice sends shivers through your body, your excitement mounting at the thought of him tearing the fragile fabric from your body.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

With that, he descends on you, crawling up your body from the foot of the bed until you are caged underneath him. He captures your lips in a rough, desperate kiss, full of the feral desire he was too worried to let out the night before. It pulls a heady moan from you as you wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his newly groomed hair to tug in just the way he loves. When his lips part to take your bottom lip between his teeth, you whimper. It’s a needy, desperate sound and it earns a chuckle from him as he begins to kiss and nip his way from your lips down your jaw and neck. He stops just above your pulse point, working the skin until he’s satisfied with a noticeable mark that you will be covering up for days. The trail of nips and kisses continues down over the swell of your breasts until he reaches the lace of your bra. With a growl, he sits up, tugging at the center where the cups connect. The look in his eyes is absolutely feral and in that moment, you don’t care about the money you spent on the outfit as strong hands rip the fabric asunder, your tits spilling free.

“Always so beautiful,” he groans before leaning down to attach his lips to your breast, causing you to arch up off of the bed as you grip at his hair. He’s cautious to avoid the scarring area, not sure if you’re healed enough to take his lavished affections there just yet, but he makes good to place at least one tender kiss over the mark before returning to working over your breasts. His teeth graze over your budding nipples, a shiver running down your spine again at the action as the desperate need for him pools in your panties.

“P-please, Pero, please,” you whine, trying to urge him faster and he complies, as desperate for you as you are for him. “I need you inside me _now_.” The growl that pulls from deep in his chest has you over the moon as he sits up, nearly ripping off his shirt as you lean up to fumble with his belt to get those damn jeans off of him.

“So desperate for my cock,” he teases as you yank down his jeans and boxers just enough to free him. With a smirk, you take him in your hand, running your tongue along his leaking tip. His body jolts at the action and it only serves to widen your smirk as you slowly move your hand along his shaft.

“Don’t act like you’re not just as desperate as I am, _gruñón._ ”

Your smirk never falters as he grabs your wrists, taking your hands from him and holding them above your head as he leans in to kiss you harshly. When he leans back, the look in his eyes makes your heart race. “On your back.” His voice is low, rich and dark and it fans the fire in your veins. “Now.” His hand lets go of your wrists and you ease yourself back, keeping your hands above your head as he stands up to rid himself of the rest of his clothes before climbing back over you, reaching for the nightstand drawer.

After grabbing what he needs, he sits back, pumping himself with languid strokes as his eyes roam over your body, his lip between his teeth. “Always look so pretty laid out for me, wanting my cock.” A breathy moan escapes you at his words and he smirks. One of these days, you’ll turn the tables on him, leave him begging for you to fuck him, but for right now the need for him very nearly burns you as you writhe on the bed, arching up for him. The sound of the foil tearing open is music to your ears and the groan he lets out as he rolls on the condom very nearly has you crying out in desperation.

Pero’s fingers trace up your legs, finding the hem of your panties before fisting them, yanking them from your body with a snap. Well, so much for that little surprise. As he works a finger into you gently, your hands snap down to grip his wrist, stilling his movements. “Please, please don’t make me wait,” you beg, searing with need made evident by the slick coating Pero’s finger.

With that accursed smirk on his lips, Pero once more takes your wrists in his hand and leans over to pin them to the bed above your head. His face hovers above yours close enough that you feel his breath washing over your face as he eases another finger into you at an achingly slow place that has you wanting to scream in frustration. “Patience, _nenita._ Patience.”

“No-” is all you manage to choke out before he curls his fingers inside of you, rubbing against that spot that has you seeing stars as the pad of his thumb circles your clit. Your back arches as you strain against his grip on your wrists, strangled sounding sobs tearing from your throat as you very rapidly lose the ability to form coherent sentences. So quickly, you make your way to that precipice of pleasure, dancing along the edge when he pulls his fingers out suddenly. You lift your head to complain but you are only able to let out a strangled cry as he replaces his fingers with what you’ve been begging him for. With a powerful thrust, he seats himself inside you, bottoming out with a low groan as his head falls to the crook of your neck for his teeth to find purchase against your skin. Your legs snap around his waist, hitching over his hips as you try to keep him against you, rutting up against him as you desperately chase your high.

“Fuck, _hermosa_ , always so good.” He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, bracing one arm beside you as he pulls out before snapping his hips back against you, watching your face contort in pleasure. “S-So beautiful like this. So _beautiful._ ” It doesn’t take long for him to set up a punishing pace, letting go of your wrists in favor of slipping a hand between your bodies to rub tight circles against your clit. Your hands fly to his shoulders, nails dragging along the skin as he fucks into you, his forehead pressed against yours. The sounds of skin slapping skin mingle with his grunts and pants and your incoherent slurs of pleasure as you once again teeter on the edge. “Cum, _hermosa,_ ” he all but begs you. “Cum on my cock.”

With a shift of his hips, he pounds that delicious spot inside of you while speeding up the circles of his fingers against your clit and you finally tip over, screaming out his name as you arch against him, ankles locking around his waist as your whole body seizes in pleasure. The groan from his lips as you clamp down on him while he fucks you through your orgasm is positively sinful and from the way his hand leaves your clit to grip at your hip, you know he’s close. Your walls flutter around him as his thrusts become sloppy. Arms still around his neck, you lean up to brush your lips over his ear as you whisper in your sex-laced voice, “cum, _amor_. Cum for me.”

That’s all it takes before he slams into you one final time, filling the condom as he twitches inside of you. You moan at the feeling, humming in satisfaction as his lips find yours. He groans into your mouth, shallow thrusts helping him ride out his high until he is well and thoroughly spent. Carefully, he slips out of you, collapsing on his side next to you as he tries to get his breathing back under control. His dark chocolate eyes watch you with such a soft light, the lust in them satiated, and you can’t help the lazy smile that plays across your lips as you turn on your side to face him. Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek, thumb tracing along the cheekbone as he watches you with his hand resting on your hip. His fingers trace gentle circles as the two of you lay together, enjoying the silence and presence of one another.

You’re the first to break the silence, a gentle affirmation of your love for him floating on the air that causes the corners of his lips to quirk up from their usual frowning position. “I love you too, _mi alma_ ,” he murmurs back, taking your hand from his cheek to kiss your knuckles before standing to go get cleaned up. While he does, you stand on shaky legs to slip on some clean underwear and one of his shirts before going to let Essy back into the room.

As you open the door, you find her laying at the door, looking up at you with her big puppy eyes and she lets out the most pathetic sounding whine you have ever heard. With a chuckle, you crouch down to pet her. “I’m sorry little one, I know we kept you out here, but three’s a crowd with what we just did.” She picks her head up, tail thumping on the ground as she tries to lick your face, and you’re sure all is forgiven. “Come on, come get on the bed.” She scrambles to her feet, beating you back to the bed which, similar to the couch, groans under her as she does.

“No dogs on the bed, hm?” Pero chuckles as he comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his arms wind around your waist.

“What can I say? I’m a big softie.” You turn your head to grin up at him and he returns it before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It’s quickly followed by a yawn from him as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I think it’s nap time after all the excitement today.” Pero makes a sound of agreement before hoisting you up and carrying you the three or so feet to the bed, earning a giggle from you. “My legs work, you know.” 

“I know,” he chuckles as he joins you in bed. You snuggle up against him as Essy takes up a good half of the bed herself at the foot. It’s a tight fit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, your little family. Pero’s heartbeat is strong beneath your ear as you rest your head against his chest with a smile, his arms keeping you securely against him as his fingers trace lines along your spine.

“I’m excited,” you murmur, turning to press a kiss to his chest and he hums, eyes already closed. “Thank you for today, my love. For finding that house. For remembering.” He grunts, tilting his head down to kiss the top of yours before relaxing again.

“For you, _princessa_ , I would tear down the heavens if it meant seeing you smile.” A pleasant warmth floods your body at his confession and you snuggle closer to him. You aren’t sure just where your future with him is going, but in this moment you’re sure of one thing; so long as you are with your grumpy Spaniard, the destination doesn’t matter. 

~~~~

Translations:  
 _hermosa_ – gorgeous  
 _querida_ – sweetheart  
“ _Rojo, amor. Hay tanto rojo_ \- Red, love. There is so much red. 

_princessa-_ princess  
 _nenita_ \- baby girl  
 _mí cielo_ – my heaven  
 _mí alma_ – my soul   
_Buenos_ _días, amor –_ good morning, love  
 _Claro –_ of course  
 _No me importa ­_ It’s not important to me  
 _Díos_ – God  
 _Marivillosa-_ marvelous  
 _mi perrita –_ my little dog  
 _gruñón_ – Grumpy  
 _calmate –_ calm down


	7. Remnants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Pero receive good news from your Realtor, and decide to go out with Pero to celebrate. A misfiring car brings on the effects of the emotional damage of your accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really emotionally heavy. Proceed with caution. Chapter Warnings: Food mention, alcohol mention, PTSD depictions, Panic attack depictions, smut (Oral - fem receiving, piv sex, praise, slight dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, slight choking, I think that’s everything), emotional vulnerability, potential Spanish conjugation mistakes (it’s been a while since I brushed up on my grammar)

Several days pass since you and Pero viewed what you would call your dream house. You had been anxiously moving about the house while Pero was away at work, cleaning and rearranging and mentally organizing for the packing that would be happening in the near future. It had been years since you last moved, and the thought of packing up your whole life once again has your anxiety and excitement through the roof, resulting in your near constant pacing around the house all with your small horse of a dog sitting on the couch watching.

“What do you think, baby girl?” you finally ask, stopping to look over the bookshelf in the living room that had accrued several more pictures of you and your grumpy lover over the past several months. You glance back over your shoulder at her to see her head tilted curiously. “Is it too early to start packing? We haven’t even heard back on the house yet.” Essy lets out a whine, picking her head up and you sigh, moving over to scratch the top of her head. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be freaking out like this right now. I should wait to hear back from the Realtor.” The Newfoundland lets out a whiny bark, earning a smile from you. “I have an idea. How about we go on a walk?”

At that, the dog leaps from the couch, running in frantically excited circles. “I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, sweet thing, let’s go.” You leash her up, making sure to grab some extra bags along the way. Your heart hammers at the thought of stepping outside alone for the first time since you’ve returned from the hospital, unresolved anxiety and fear slowly creeping into your thoughts, but you shove them aside, grabbing your keys to lock up as you head out. Essy needs to go outside, you need to take her, no two ways about it. 

It’s a beautiful day, it really is, and the crisp winter air is refreshing as you take a deep breath. The pain in your chest has been steadily abating to the point where you only really notice it when you cough or yawn or laugh too hard. Even so, you don’t plan on straying far from the house. Ever since the accident, Pero has been insistent that you don’t wander off without him there beside you and though he never voices it, you know that he carries with him a sense of guilt that he hadn’t been there to protect you in the first place. And so you heed his request, sticking to the property of the apartment complex in the areas easily visible from the road and windows. It keeps your own anxieties at ease as well, knowing you’re close enough to home that you could easily run inside if need be.

Essy doesn’t seem to mind her reduced range. Even though she’s used to significantly longer walks when Pero takes her out, she seems perfectly content to simply wander around the property, sniffing away. You’re watching her stare down a squirrel when you hear someone approach from behind, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart seizes in your chest and you spin around with wide eyes, arm raised in front of you in a loose attempt to protect yourself, only to see Pero there, hands raised with palms extended in a placating manner.

“Easy, _amor_ , it’s just me.” His voice is soothing and deep and you slowly lower your arm before reaching to rub your face with a sigh. Guilt washes over you at your reaction as the adrenaline works its way through you, and you make no move to approach him, letting him instead come to you. His arms carefully wind around you, pulling you to his broad chest and you immediately hide your face against his neck. “I did not mean to startle you, _preciosa_ _.”_ A hand cradles the back of your head gently as your heart rate returns to normal, knees only slightly shaky.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I should be more aware of what’s around me. You just startled me is all.” Warm brown eyes stare back at you with a glimmer of concern before he reaches down to carefully take Essy’s leash. You let him, tucking yourself instead against his side, any and all anxiety of being outside alone melt away as you’re surrounded by him. Pero lets out a whistle, getting Essy’s attention who eagerly bounds over for attention from her dad. He gives her a soft smile and scratches behind her ears before turning to lead you both back inside. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home behind you has never sounded so relieving.

“I’m going to shower, then we can talk about dinner.” Pero gives you a quick kiss before turning to head back to your room. You watch him as he goes, arms crossed over your chest as you let out a frustrated sigh and take your seat on the couch to wait for him, thinking over what had just happened.

Logically, you know that something like being shot would have lingering effects. People have been affected much worse by much less, all things considered, and the doctor had advised seeing someone to mitigate any post-traumatic effects you might experience. Even so, you can’t shake the guilt from your terrified reaction to your own boyfriend. The same boyfriend who would never so much as raise his voice at you, even when he’s upset. You drop your face into your hands with another sigh, trying to figure out what you need to do to deal with this. Maybe you should take the doctor’s advice and look for someone to talk to, someone to help you deal with all the anxiety bottled up inside you.

Your contemplative session is soon interrupted, however, by the chime of your phone. Without even checking the caller ID, you answer politely, not really in the mood to talk, but never forgetting the manners your mother hammered into you. “Mrs. Tovar?” comes the chipper tone of your Realtor on the other end of the line and your heart stutters in your chest, mood changing in an instant.

“N-No, we aren’t married. I’m just Pero’s girlfriend.” Your face grows hot at the thought of sharing Pero’s last name. No, no that was a step far too in the future for you to be considering at the moment.

“Oh, terribly sorry! I had just assumed, beg your pardon.”

“It’s… fine. It’s fine. How are you?”

“Happy as a clam! I have some _excellent_ news for you and Mr. Tovar!”

Your eyebrows shoot up as you sit forward on the couch, listening intently. “About the house?”

“Yes! I’ve managed to get them to accept a lower offer due to all the patch work that still needs to be done! It will clock you in at just over $4,500 under your budget!”

Suddenly, it’s like a boulder has been lifted from your shoulders. You got the house. _You got the house!_ Tears brim in your eyes as you try to gather your thoughts. “That’s… that’s fantastic news! Thank you! So, what are the next steps?”

“I’ll send all of that to you in an email, with everything that needs to be done. It’s fairly straight forward, but the sooner you get it done, the sooner you can move in! Congratulations!”

At this point, Pero wanders back out in your favorite grey sweats slung low across his hips and his towel around his shoulders as he dries his hair. His face twists in confusion at the look on your face, but you wave him off, thanking the agent one more time before ending the call, smiling up at him. “It is… good news?” he questions, coming to stand in front of you as you hop up off the couch.

“We got it, Pero! We got the house!” His eyes go wide at your proclamation, reaching out for your hands.

“ _En serio?”_ It’s barely above a whisper, and you nod, happy tears spilling over to run down your cheeks. His arms wind around you and he spins you around before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You drape your arms around his neck, holding yourself as close to him as you can manage as you drink him in. When he finally breaks the kiss, leaving you winded, he rests his forehead against your own. “We have much to do, _amor_ _,”_ he rasps, brushing his nose against your own.

“We do! But, Pero, I think we should celebrate tonight!” You pull back just enough to beam up at him, sliding your hands down to cup his face. “We can call William and Cynthia and go out for drinks!” You note the hesitation in Pero’s gaze when you mention going out, and you swipe your thumbs along his cheeks to soothe him. “It’ll be fine, Pero. We haven’t been out since before… everything happened. It’ll do us both some good to be with our friends.” He lets out a soft sigh, hands sliding down to rest on your hips as he watches your face intently. “Please?”

How can he say no to you? After everything you have done for him and given him? With how you hold his heart in your hands like the most precious of stones, he can deny you nothing. “Alright, I will call William and we can go.” The smile that spreads across your face eases his worry he has and you kiss him excitedly before letting him go.

“I need to go get ready!” you chirp before turning to run down the hall, Pero’s eyes following you the whole way. You don’t see the anxiety glinting in them as he watches you go.

Excitement courses through your veins as you shower, singing softly to yourself. The last time you had been out with Pero, William, and Cynthia feels like forever ago and any and all anxieties you could possibly have about going out are replaced with the eagerness to dress up and enjoy the night, celebrating the next big step in your life with your best friends. You can’t wait to see the look on Cynthia’s face when you tell her you scored your dream house. You can already hear her demanding to come over and see _everything_ _._

Once you’re done with your shower, you towel off, wrapping one around you before turning to make your way to the closet. You don’t make it far from the bathroom, however, when you see Pero sitting at the foot of the bed, eyes downcast. Something is wrong, and you immediately grow worried as you slowly approach him. A scowl is firmly planted on his lips as he looks to his hands, not so much as attempting to move as you approach. “Pero? _Amor?_ Are you alright?” Your voice is gentle as you reach out to him, fingers brushing over his hand, yet still he doesn’t move. “Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s wrong?” You crouch in front of him, looking up to try and gauge the emotions on his face. You lift your hand to brush your fingertips along his cheek, full of nothing but concern for the man in front of you. “Do you… not want to do this?”

At the saddened tone in your voice, Pero looks up to you and you see that light of confliction in his eyes once more. “Are you ready to be going out again?” he rasps, his fingers curling around your own.

“I feel okay. Only a few things cause me pain anymore. I’ll just take it easy with dancing tonight.” He nods at that, offering a noncommittal hum in response that does very little to soothe your worry. “It’s something else, isn’t it? Pero, I can’t read your mind. If you’re upset you need to talk to me.” He catches your eye again before letting out a sigh and squeezing your hand gently as he rises to his feet, pulling you along with him. Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest as he holds you tightly. Your own arms wind around him, gently rubbing his back to soothe him.

“Everything will be alright tonight.” The words are barely a whisper, and you wonder if he is saying them more for you or for himself. Your brow furrows, but you decide it best not to push the subject, knowing that when he needed to talk about whatever is on his mind, he will.

“It will be. I’ll have you there with me the whole time. Everything will be alright.” You feel his lips press against the top of your head in a tender kiss, a gesture from him more common when he is giving or seeking comfort than anything else, and it causes you to hold him a little tighter. “I promise.”

The two of you stay like that for a little while longer, secure in one another’s embrace before you finally pull away, smiling up at him. “Now what do you say we get dressed? I’d hate to keep those two waiting. We’ll never hear the end of it if we’re late.” Pero groans, dropping his face to your shoulder as you chuckle. You’re right, and he knows it.

“At least you do not have to work with him. I do not understand how one man talks so much.” With another chuckle, your card your hand through his hair gently.

“Well, then let’s not give him something to talk about. Come on, love.”

An hour later, you and Pero are out the door, headed to the same local bar where you first met William and Cynthia. You would be lying to say that being out didn’t make you nervous, but the comforting warmth of Pero’s hand around yours makes it bearable. When you arrive, your friends have already managed to snag a table, waving the two of you over with the biggest smiles you think you’ve ever seen. Cynthia springs to her feet to wrap you in a tight hug while Pero takes William’s hand in greeting.

“Glad to finally see you out and about, smiles!” William flashes you a wink as he holds his arms open for a hug which you quickly return before sliding into the booth beside Pero, whose hand quickly finds its home on your thigh. It’s a grounding for him just as much as it is for you, you’re sure. “How’s the chest feeling?”

“A lot better. It really only hurts if I cough or yawn or laugh too hard. I haven’t really exerted myself much, so I’m not sure what it’s like when my heart rate stays elevated for too long.”

“What, Tovar not doing you justice enou- OW!” William jumps, reaching under the table while he flashes Pero a betrayed look to be met only with a scathing scowl.

“You deserved that one, baby,” Cynthia giggles, reaching out to put her hand over yours on the table. “It’s really good to see you two again. I’m glad you could come out with us! William says you two have some exciting news?” Her eyes dart eagerly between the two of you, the anticipation evident in her gaze.

“We do! So, you know how I told you we were looking for a bigger house?” Cynthia and William both nod and all you can do is smile even wider. “Well, we found one! And we put in an offer and it was accepted! We’re going to be moving!”

Cynthia gasps, eyes wide. “Really?! Oh, that’s fantastic! Where to?”

“The older part of town. Pero found the absolute perfect house out on the edge of the historic district. It’s like a dream come true!” You smile up at the man next to you, his own lips quirked up in a proud smirk as he sits back in the seat, listening.

“Well hey, this definitely calls for some celebratory drinks! First round is on me!” William stands, asking for IDs to go and get things from the bar.

“I can’t wait for you all to see it. It’s got the most beautiful living room and back yard. It’ll be perfect for little get-togethers!”

Cynthia is very nearly bouncing in her seat with excitement. “I can’t wait! When do you move in?”

“As soon as the paperwork is completed. Meaning we need to get started with packing here tomorrow, probably.” Pero’s brow creases at that.

“ _Hermosa,_ I need to work late tomorrow.” His hand squeezes your leg gently, but you wave off his concern.

“It’s alright, I can pack the smaller things. I won’t do much heavy lifting, I promise.”

Cynthia makes a sound that borders on disapproval, drawing both your attentions back to her. “I can come over and help. Make sure she doesn’t lift anything too heavy.” She flashes you a wink when you scoff indignantly, but the offer makes Pero visibly relax.

“Thank you, Cynthia. That will help greatly.” His voice is gruff, but sincere. 

Cynthia just shrugs and grins. “Anything for my two favorite people!”

“I thought I was your favorite person!” William whines, making it back to the table with a round of drinks for everyone.

“Only sometimes,” she coos, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The night continues on, light and jovial. You knew you missed doing things like this, you had just forgotten how much. The hum of the alcohol in your system has dulled any of your remaining anxieties as Cynthia drags you out to the dance floor where you are quickly joined by your respective dates. Pero grabs your hips, spinning you to face him and you drape your arms around his neck. You grin up at him with a lascivious gaze, biting your lower lip as your eyes rake over his handsome face. He stares back at you, eyes dark and features sharp in the pulsating light of the dance floor. Pero has never really been one for dancing, but feeling you grinding against him to the beat of the music is starting to drive him wild and he thinks he could get used to this. A lewd idea pops into your head, but before you can act on it, there’s a tap on your shoulder and you loll your head back to see Cynthia. “What?” you whine, upset that your eye-fucking of your boyfriend has been interrupted.

“I’m hungry! Let’s go get tacos!”

Tacos. Your stomach growls and you decide to file your idea away for another time as you look back to Pero with a grin. “Tacos?”

Pero gives you an almost pained look, and something tells you that a similarly nefarious idea had not been too far from his own thoughts. He clears his throat, nodding as he gives your hips a gentle squeeze. “Tacos,” he affirms, wrapping an arm around your waist to lead you outside, grabbing Cynthia along the way while William goes to settle up.

Once outside, you let go of your Spaniard in favor of hanging off of Cynthia, bubbling and giggling with her about your respective dates without a care in the world, and it causes a certain warmth to spread in Pero’s chest as he keeps an eye on you, pretending not to listen. He could listen to you whispering conspiratorially to your friend all day just so long as it meant seeing that shine in your eyes when you cast a look his way. But that would need to wait for some other time, as William finally rejoins the three of you. He tries to take Cynthia back, but you slap his hand away with a sharp “Mine!” followed by an explosion of giggles. Pero snorts in amusement, shaking his head when William gives him a confused look. Deciding it best to let the two of you continue to cling to one another, the men flank either side as the four of you head to the taco truck just down the street.

It’s only once you get there that your respective boyfriends are able to detach you from one another. Pero’s arm winds around your waist as you ramble on about what kind of tacos you want, earning a sweet smile from the woman manning the window. She and Pero have a quick conversation that is far too fast and far too Spanish for you to understand, and you begin to complain until Pero presses a quick kiss to your lips to silence you. “ _Amor,_ be patient. The tacos are coming soon,” he consoles as you lean heavily against him. He would need to make a note at how low your tolerance has gotten after not drinking in so long.

It doesn’t take long for the tacos to finish, Pero thanking the woman behind the counter before holding your plate for you as you excitedly indulge in your meal. William does the same for Cynthia, who is beginning to stumble more than walk. “I think you need to take her home, _amigo_.” Pero nods towards your best friend, who would surely be on the ground if not for the arm around her waist.

“I think you’re right. Will you two be alright if we snag an Uber to head home?” William glances to you briefly before looking back to his friend. “Do you need us to walk with you?”

“No. You take her home. I can manage here.” Pero holds you a bit tighter, supporting your weight as much as he can. “We are not far from home, here.” Reluctantly, William concedes, moving to sit Cynthia down on a nearby bench to wait for their ride, wishing both you and Pero a good night as your grumpy Spaniard begins to escort you home. “ _Amante_ , you will be the death of me,” he mutters, keeping his gaze locked ahead of him as he leads you home, and all you can do is giggle.

All things considered, it’s a rather nice night for a walk, and you had had the good sense to bring your heavier coat out with you to ward off the chill of the winter air. But Pero can’t seem to bring himself to enjoy it, anxiety building in the pit of his stomach as he holds you a bit tighter to him. Anxiety about what, he isn’t sure, but all he knows is that he needs to get you home quickly. It isn’t until you complain about the pace that he realizes he’s sped up, and with a frown he slows back down to a more comfortable pace. For a moment, it seems like the walk home will have been uneventful. But things can never be so simple, can they?

As the two of you round the corner, heading down your street to the apartment, an older car further down the road misfires. The loud pop, not too unlike the sound of gunfire, from the upset engine echoes down the street and fear seizes your heart, even in your drunken state. A blood curdling scream tears from your lips at the sound as your knees collapse underneath you. Pero sinks to the ground with you, doing his best to keep you from hitting the concrete as the remnants of the tacos scatter, forgotten. Sobs wrack your chest, part from terror, part from the pain in your chest caused by the violence of your sobs. Pero turns you to him, cradling you so your face is hidden against his chest as his blood sings in his veins. He’s never seen you so desperate, so _scared._ The anxiety is replaced with rage. Curse the one who did this to you, who gave you this burdensome nightmare to live with. Was it not enough to nearly take you from him?

“No! No, no, no, no!” you screech, clawing at Pero’s chest, desperate to get closer to him and _away_ from whatever it was that just shot at you. You have to get away. You _have to._

Through the haze of fear and intoxication, you barely register Pero’s voice as he attempts to soothe you. His arms have enveloped you, concealing you from the outside as much as he possibly can, protecting you. “H-home,” you manage to whimper out, clinging to Pero like a lifeline as every nerve in your body tells you to _run_. You tremble in his hold, uncertain if your legs will even allow you to stand. But your Spaniard is strong, and he aids you to your feet with little effort. He hoists you into his arms, quickly heading to the apartment.

Another misfire from the car brings on fresh sobs. Make it stop. _Make it stop_. Your chest feels tight, like you can’t get in a good breath and you just want it all to _stop_.

So lost are you in your panic, you don’t notice you’ve made it home, not until Pero carefully lays you on the bed. Even still, you don’t let him go, trembling hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt as you hide your face against his neck. Pero is safe. Pero will protect you. “D-Don’t leave me,” you whimper and Pero feels his heart shatter in his chest at how tiny your voice sounds. If he _ever_ finds the one who did this to you, he would make sure they suffered.

“ _Lo juro_ ,” he murmurs, letting you continue to cling to him as he sits on the bed beside you. You scramble into his lap, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You’re hiding, he realizes, so he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around you. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

It takes a while, but eventually your sobs begin to abate, your trembling ceasing as you slowly relax in Pero’s arms. When your head finally drops to his shoulder, your breaths ghosting his neck evening out, he relaxes. You’ve fallen asleep.

Carefully, he shifts you from his lap, laying you down against the sheets. He takes a moment to watch you, scowl firmly in place as he appraises the relics left from your panic. Your makeup is smeared and your eyes swollen. But what strikes him the most is the almost pained look on your face, even in sleep. Your brow is pinched and your lips down turned as if still remembering, even as you dream. He brings his hand to your face, thumb gently smoothing the frown lines that pinch your brow as he does his best not to wake you.

“Oh, _mi cielo…,”_ he whispers, guilt lacing every syllable.“ _P_ _erdóname…._ I should have been there to keep you safe. I should have saved you from all of this pain.” Pero rubs a hand across his face, sucking in a sharp breath as he blinks back the tears that blur his vision. “ _Perdóname. Perdóname. Por favor, perdóna-me.”_ His voice breaks on the last word and he slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling a sob so as not to wake you. In his life, Pero Tovar has carried the weight of many things, and his shoulders are stronger for it. But this? This guilt? This is by far the heaviest of them all.

Pero stays there for a long while, crying silently beside you until the tears finally run dry. When he finally stands, it’s with resolution. Too much went wrong tonight, and he will not let it happen again, but for now he will take care of you. That is all he can do. And so, he carefully slips the shoes from your feet before laying the blanket across you. “ _Duerma bien, amor.”_ His voice is barely above a breath, more of a rumble in his chest as he turns to leave the room to lock up the house. There, waiting for him in the hallway, is Ezzy. She lifts her head as he makes his way to her, tail wagging once as she lets out a loud whine. “ _Mamá_ will be alright, Esmeralda.” He pats the top of her head as he moves past her, double and triple checking the locks on the doors and windows before returning to the bedroom, the pup hot on his heels. But tonight, rather than jump into bed as the furry beast is wont to do, she pads to your side of the bed, laying down and curling up beside you. It brings the ghost of a smile to Pero’s lips as he strips down before climbing into bed beside you.

Even in your state of unconsciousness, your body seeks out his. You roll yourself over, reaching for his warmth and Pero eagerly pulls you against him, your forehead against his chest as he nuzzles against your hair. Here, you are both safe. Here, no one can touch you. Wrapped in this blanket of security, Pero too drifts off to sleep.

As you slowly begin to shake off the thralls of sleep, you let out a quiet groan. Your head feels like it’s being split in two and your ears are ringing so loudly you’re sure that the sound is actually coming from your apartment and not from your own body. Your eyes positively ache and feel like they’re full of sand while every inch of your body aches and you have the worst case of cotton mouth you think you’ve ever had. But at least you’re warm. Very, very warm. A soft snore beside you tells you the reason. Pero. Your human furnace of a boyfriend has you wrapped in his arms, pressed against his chest. A smile ghosts across your face, the phantoms of last night having yet to wrap their talons around you.

As you snuggle closer to your grumpy Spaniard, he sucks in a startled breath from being woken, paired with that little grunt you’ve come to realize he makes every time he wakes up. “ _Princesa?”_ he slurs, voice still so thick with sleep you aren’t entirely convinced he’s actually awake yet.

“I’m here,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. The sound alone sends a piercing pain through your temples and you bite back a whimper as you hide your face against him. His calloused fingers run up and down your spine and as you continue to rouse yourself, you realize you’re still dressed in your clothes from last night. “What… What happened?”

Pero takes a deep breath before sighing, holding you a bit tighter as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Much. Let’s get you cleaned up before we discuss it, _sí?_ ” A frown tugs at your lips as you try to remember last night, Pero’s words bringing you little comfort. He pulls back a touch when you don’t reply, sighing softly at the look on your face. “You did nothing bad, I promise.” A soft hum of acknowledgment is all you can manage in reply, trying your best to remember the night before, but all you can conjure are hazy memories of Cynthia laughing and tacos. “Come,” Pero finally whispers as he sits up, pulling the blankets back before extending a hand to you.

The morning routine is quiet as Pero helps you to strip yourself of last night's clothes before helping you into the shower. He follows behind you, the whole time keeping you positioned so that you have no sight of the mirror, though at this point you think nothing of it. He works in silence, lathering and rinsing your hair before helping to wash your body, letting you take care of your own face before he cleans himself with haste. After you’ve both rinsed, he helps you out and wraps a fluffy towel around you, helping to dry you, and while you would normally protest, today you make no effort to. The hot water has worked to soothe a bit of your hangover, but the pain behind your eyes is still prominent. “Will you be okay to get dressed while I take Esmeralda out?” he finally asks once he’s satisfied with his towel job.

“Yes,” you rasp, trying not to talk too loudly until you get some painkillers into you to dull the ache in your head. “Then breakfast?”

“Then breakfast.” He seals the promise with a kiss to your forehead before throwing on some clothes and heading to get your beast. A fragile smile flutters on your lips for a moment before it falls as the door closes behind him, leaving you in the house alone. Normally, this is a nonissue, but this morning it suddenly feels too quiet and as if the walls are closing in on you. You stumble back to the bedroom, dropping the towel before crawling into bed, quickly hiding under the covers as your chest constricts agonizingly. Your breaths come short and shallow as you wrap your arms around yourself to try and fight off the feeling of panic washing over you, the only sound in the room the soft whimpers coming from your lips.

It feels like forever that you lay there, curled up and trembling with your heart hammering painfully beneath your ribs, and when the blanket is carefully pulled back, you curl tighter into yourself. The touch of calloused yet gentle hands on your shoulder earns a quiet sob from you before the bed dips beside you and those same hands pull you gently into a warm embrace. Whispered words of comfort slowly soothe the panic gripping your chest. “You are safe, _amor_. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, so slowly, the panic abates, leaving you exhausted and downtrodden as you lay in Pero’s lap. His hands trace up and down your arm in calming lines, and the sound of his heartbeat and steady breathing lulls you to a sense of peace. “I’m sorry,” you finally manage out. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him, but you can feel his eyes on you all the same. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

He grunts, shifting you in his lap slightly. “After terrible things happen to you, the nightmares will sometime follow you still when you wake.” His voice is heavy, laden with experience that makes your heart ache for him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, it is not your fault and I see you no different.”

For a moment, you let the words soak in, pondering them. “But… why now? Why all of a sudden? Pero, what happened last night after we left William and Cynthia?” Your fingers fiddle with the string of his hoodie, trying to keep busy to keep your mind from derailing and lurching you back into your panic. At the question, you feel him tense beneath you and wonder how true his statement about not doing anything truly is.

“We walked home. A car misfired and it sounded like a gunshot. You fell to the ground screaming and crying and I had to carry you home.” He takes pause to nuzzle into your hair for a moment, composing himself before continuing, his voice drawn tight. “I have never seen you so scared, _mi cielo._ Shaking and crying and terrified. I think those memories haunt you now. Your mind is still scared.”

Your hands fist into Pero’s hoodie as you bite back another wave of tears. You had done so well after being discharged, rarely having nightmares at all, and when you did they didn’t leave you with this overwhelming feeling of dread that now feels all consuming. “That’s… all?” you whisper, still refusing to look up at the man holding you, and he offers a gentle hum of acknowledgment.

“That is all. I promise. You did nothing that you should be ashamed of.”

“I don’t like feeling like this, Pero. I don’t like feeling this scared.”

His fingers slide under your jaw, gently lifting your face to his so he can look into your eyes with such a fiery intensity it nearly takes your breath away. “It will pass, _amor_ , I promise. I will keep you safe and the fear will pass in time.” You believe him. You do. And you know he’s right, you just need to give it a bit more time. His hand moves to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking along your cheekbone with a tenderness juxtaposed to his menacing demeanor. “Come. Let’s get you dressed and I will make you breakfast. I will tell William I am staying home today.”

“Pero, I-” He cuts you off by moving his thumb over your lips, stilling them as he shakes his head.

“No, _mi alma_. I will not leave you alone today. I promised to take care of you, and I am a man of my word.” Under his thumb, your lips curl into a gentle smile before you press a soft kiss to it. Satisfied, he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead before shuffling you from his lap, moving to get your lounge clothes in a routine you both have memorized. Regardless of the slivers of terror still stirring in your blood, you know that you’re safe and loved here with your Spaniard, and that he will make good on his promise to you. With him, you will make it through whatever ghosts may choose to haunt you. You’re sure of it.

Over the next week, you slowly grow more comfortable again. Nightmares are a frequent visitor, but they seem to stay with your unconsciousness rather than follow you into your waking hours as well. And when they do strike in the night, Pero is always there, pulling you closer against his chest as he soothes you back to sleep. The day after your panic attack, Pero had been anxious to leave you for work, but you had stubbornly insisted he go. You assured him if anything went wrong, you would call him first thing, and after much convincing and a minor threat of botching the next time you make paella, he finally made his way reluctantly out the door. That day, your phone had buzzed non-stop with check-ins, but you couldn’t say you didn’t appreciate it. Each day after that only grew easier, especially as you could focus on packing for the move. Come the weekend, most of the house has been packed away in labeled boxes stacked neatly in the living room and extra bedroom.

“ _Amor?”_ you hear from the front of the apartment this evening after Pero returns later than normal.

“In the bedroom!” you call from your place on the floor in front of your bathroom sink cabinet, slowly packing away the rather obscene amount of things you’ve kept under there. Pero had poked fun at you the other day about having too many things, but at this point you’re starting to believe him. He eventually makes his way to you, crossing his arms to lean against the door frame.

“Still packing?”

“I’m almost done.” You flash him a smile before looking back to the cabinet. “How was work?”

“William is still an idiot, so the same as always.” You chuckle lightly at the comment. Though Pero rags on the blonde all the time, you know they’re thick as thieves. Pero would do nearly anything for William, and vice versa. Though you had to admit, sometimes William’s head was just… empty. At least he was pretty. “I am sorry to be back so late. I had to take care of something on the way home.”

“It’s no problem.” You let out a soft groan as your knees protest standing after kneeling on the linoleum for so long. “Did you get everything taken care of?”

“Hmmm,” he hums with a nod, smirking down at you before uncrossing his arms to dangle a set of keys in front of your face. It takes you a moment to process before you realize they’re house keys. You let out a tiny gasp as you reach for the keys, only for him to lift them up out of your reach, earning a pout for you. “You are more excited to see the keys than me, _hermosa_.” You let out a huff, standing on tip toe to press a kiss to his lips two which he makes a pleased sound before dropping the keys into your hands. A giddy giggle bubbles through your lips as Pero watches you with that signature smirk.

“So, it’s official then?” you question, glancing up at him with those sparkling eyes he loves so much.

“It is. We can start moving in tomorrow.” With another excited laugh, you throw your arms around his shoulders, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist to hold you to him.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his neck before pulling back to smile up at him. “You know, if we can get everything moved tomorrow… then tonight will be the last night in this apartment.” You raise your eyebrow with a suggestive grin, your hands squeezing Pero’s shoulders slightly.

His hands slide from around you to gripping your hips firmly, an eyebrow arched and a smirk on his lips. “Hmmm, should we give the apartment a proper goodbye then, _nenita_?” He pulls your hips closer, pressing his own hips into yours.

“I think we should give the neighbors something to remember us by,” you all but purr, raising up on your tip toes once more to nibble at his lips, taking the bottom between your teeth and tugging gently. A deep growl resonates in Pero’s chest that sends a shiver through your body as his eyes grow darker.

“Let us see just how loud _mi princessa perfecta_ can be, hm?”

Your hands wind up through his hair as he stares down at you, and you use just enough pressure to lower his head so that his ear is level with your lips. “Make me scream, _”_ you whisper before taking his earlobe between your teeth, tugging softly. You weren’t sure about that nickname the first time you used it, wondering if it was too much or an overstep in some way. Something you shouldn’t be calling him for any number of reasons, but when he threw you over his shoulder with a needy growl the first time that word slipped past your lips, you were certain he liked it. Or at very least, liked it when _you_ said it.This time is no different. As soon as the word drips from your lips, a groan leaves his, and against your hip you feel him begin to harden, fingers digging into your hips with an almost bruising intensity. You toss the keys on to the sink counter before hopping up, letting Pero catch you under your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist, all with a lascivious grin plastered on your lips.

“When I am done with you, you will have the memory of it with you for days,” he all but growls, turning to cover the several steps from the bathroom to the bed.

“Prove it to me, _gruñon.”_ You tilt your head, pressing kisses and nips to his neck as he walks, marking along the golden skin. Pero shivers under your touch, craning his neck to the side to grant you more access for a moment before roughly grabbing at your ass. You pull back just enough at the gesture to see his face, eyes blazing with lust for you, and it sends a chill down your spine at the borderline predatory look he gives you. This man is powerful and dangerous, and you know this. But the care and caution he shows with you even as he pounds you in the mattress, the restraint and tenderness that is so juxtaposed to the ferality you know he possesses melts your heart. You know this is only for you, that this man is completely and totally yours in just as many ways as you are his.

Slowly, Pero turns, easing himself down onto the edge of the bed as a playful smirk dances across his lips. Strong hands knead your ass through your shorts as he appraises your face, and you can tell he’s piecing together an idea. Your own hands spread across his chest, his heart thrumming with anticipation under your hand. Impatiently, you try to roll your hips against him, only to have him grip them tightly to still your movements. “No, no, _nenita._ Tonight, we play by my rules.”

Oh, fuck. His voice is so thick with lust, so deep and commanding that you’re instantly putty in his hands, and all you can do is whimper and nod, biting at your bottom lip. He hums in approval of your reaction, leaning in to nibble your jaw before kissing and nipping up to your ear. “What is the word?” he murmurs, squeezing your hips once more before taking your earlobe between his teeth.

“F-fire,” you whimper out, hands balling into fists against his chest as you crane your head back for him. Pero tugs your earlobe once before brushing his lips up along the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps along your arms.

“ _Buena niña,”_ he whispers into your ear, leaving you trembling in his lap. He knows how much you love when he speaks Spanish to you, and he takes every advantage of it. You can feel his lips curling into a smirk against your ear, when a sudden smack to the side of your ass tears a yelp from your lips. Your eyes shoot wide open as you pull back, looking at Pero as his palm smooths over the now tender area. “Stand up.” His tone is still commanding, and you feel in that moment like he could ask you to do _anything_ in that voice and you would do it, no questions asked. He lets you go as you scramble from his lap, standing in front of him to wait for your next command. You’re still completely clothed, but when he looks at you with that stare, that hunger, you feel more exposed than ever.

“Strip.”

It’s a short, simple command. He doesn’t tell you how, just to strip. But he knows. You know he knows that you’ll act in whatever way you can to please him when he uses that voice. So, you do. Your hands slide up your sides to grip the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and you slowly pull it up over your head, hips swaying to some silent rhythm. The fabric pools by your feet as you drop it, your eyes finding Pero’s face once more. His eyes are locked on your figure as you sway in front of him, and his hand shamelessly rubs himself through his jeans. Biting back a smirk, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, slowly slipping them off your legs, stepping out of them with a step closer to your Spaniard.

You still have your undergarments to rid yourself of when an idea strikes you. With a wink, you turn around, your back facing to him before you undo your bra, depriving him of the sight of your breasts for just a moment, and he growls impatiently in response. “ _Nenita.”_ It’s a warning, you know it. A caution to not tease him right now, but you let it slip idly by as you drop your bra on the ground before hooking your thumbs in your panties. You slowly slip them down your legs, making a point to bend completely over as you slide them all the way down, this time earning a needy groan from Pero as he watches, seeing how you already glisten for him.

“Like what you see?” you chirp, glancing behind you from your still bent over position.

“Such a _pretty_ girl,” he growls, reaching out to grab a handful of your ass before wrapping his hand around your hip to pull you back to his lap. When you’re seated, he nudges your legs apart, draping them over each of his own legs to give him uninhibited access to you. A whimper leaves you lips at a mix of the cool air washing over your heated core, and the feeling of his hard cock pressing against you through the fabric of his jeans. “ _Solamente mío,”_ he growls into your ear before dragging his teeth along the shell of it, earning a shiver from you.

One of his hands travels up your body, weighing one of your breasts in it before groping it, massaging it. The other hand snakes around your hip, resting just above your mound, just above where you want to feel him the most. “P-Pero,” you whimper as his lips move along your neck, sucking marks into your skin. He hums against your neck, squeezing your breast again as the fingers of his other hand tap the skin just about your aching core.

“Tell me what you want, _nenita.”_ Teeth find purchase at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you let out a needy whine, your hand reaching up to tangle in his unruly locks.

“ _Please touch me,”_ you all but beg, trying to buck your hips for any sort of relief, but the hand on your lower stomach keeps you firmly in place. Pero’s lips curl into a satisfied smile against your shoulder, his hand slowly dipping lower till he cups your mound.

“Oh, _nenita,”_ he purrs, his fingers barely brushing against your skin. “Look at you. So gorgeous. So _needy_.” With a whimper, your hand not currently tangled in his hair grips at his wrist, trying to move his hand faster, but good Lord is he strong in resisting your attempts. He continues his slow strokes along you, fingers barely dipping between your folds, and it feels like the sweetest torture. “But not needy enough.” His voice drops impossibly lower, his growl absolutely feral in your ear. “ _Beg.”_

A simple little word. A word that strips every last molecule of air from your lungs. This is new. This is uncharted territory and it thrills you to see this side of him, in such complete and utter control of your pleasure. “P-Please,” you whimper with whatever breath you manage to take, but his hand stills, unsatisfied. “P-Pero, please! I need it!”

“Need what?”

“You to touch me!” you sob, clinging to his wrist tightly enough that you’re sure it’s causing him discomfort, but his rock hard cock pressing into your back tells you otherwise. “Please, _please_ touch me! Fill me up, stretch me out. I _need_ it! I need _you!”_ That’s it, that’s exactly what he wants to hear, his pleased growl rumbling through his chest as he _finally_ slips a finger inside you. You keen in pleasure, your walls immediately clamping down greedily around the digit and it takes all of Pero’s self control to not turn and throw you on the bed, ravaging you then and there. The sounds you make, the way your body writhes under his touch, it’s like heaven.

All too quickly, one finger becomes no longer enough and you’re whimpering with the need for more once again. More than eager to comply, he eases in a second finger, curling them inside you to hit that sweet spot that has you seeing stars while his thumb presses into your clit, tapping it in time with the curls of his fingers. Through the haze of pleasure that he’s guiding you through, you hear his voice, deep and gruff as he whispers the filthiest praises to you. It’s too much. It’s all too much and you can feel yourself dancing along that precipice of euphoria. Just a few more strokes, a few more taps, and you’ll be there. So close. So, so close-

Your eyes shoot open as he slips his fingers out of you, holding you back against him. No. No, no, no! You were so close! You were _right there_! Desperately, you try to rut your hips forward, desperate to find that completion that was at your fingertips. The hand splayed over your stomach keeps you still, and a frustrated sob wrenches from your lips as the band of pleasure in your stomach slowly uncoils, your orgasm slipping away. “P-Pero,” you choke out, voice warbled as you try to get some sort of sense about you.

“ _Eres tan bonita como eso.”_ Your brain is so foggy with the denied pleasure that it takes a moment for his words to register. A whimper falls from your lips when they finally do. You want to be pretty for him. You want to please him. But by God do you want him to give you that release he just denied you.

“I’m prettier when I cum,” you manage to get out, surprising even yourself with the fact that you could get out a coherent sentence.

“You are. And you will cum, _amante_. But when you do, it will be on my tongue.” He paws roughly at your breast once more before standing slipping you off his lap to urge you onto the bed. You gaze up at him through hooded, hazy eyes as he stands in front of you, rubbing himself through his jeans. Without thinking, you lean forward to try and touch, desperate to get those offensive jeans off of him so he could fuck you properly. You let out a tiny yelp when he grabs your wrist, quickly looking up at him as he shakes his head. “Do not touch.” You tremble, but comply, sitting back as he begins to shed his own clothes.

He’s perfect. You know this. You’ve known how he looks under his clothes for a long time now, but even still, every time he peels those garments away, revealing the honey kissed skin underneath, the thought still manages to flit through your mind. He’s absolutely perfect.

A smirk dances across his lips as he undoes his belt, pushing his jeans down to join the shirt on the floor, freeing his cock for the uncomfortable confines. Unconsciously, you lick your lips as he takes himself in his hand, slowly stroking with that confident smirk on his lips and fiery glint in his eyes.

“Hands and knees,” he commands and you quickly scramble to comply, rolling over and propping up as asked. Anticipation courses through your veins, heightening your senses. You feel the bed sag behind you, followed by a sharp smack to your ass that pulls another yelp from you. He soothes the sting, smoothing his palm over the mark he’s left. “Hmmmm,” he hums softly, leaning down to kiss the dip in your back, just at the top of your ass before kissing down over the supple flesh. When he finally reaches his destination, you collapse down to your elbows, the pleasure of his tongue swiping through your sensitive folds overwhelming.

“F-fuck,” you whine, gripping the sheets in your fists as Pero moans against you at the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He devours you like a man starved, feasting on you like you are his last meal. His tongue runs circles around your clit before sliding back up and delving deeper into you. It’s masterful, how he works, and any chance at a coherent thought quickly escapes your grasp. There’s only Pero and the pleasure of his mouth against you.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you back up to that feeling of release, your stomach tightening as he reaches up to rub circles around your clit, coaxing you there even faster in a desperate desire to taste you, to have you spill into his mouth. “P-Per -ngh – Pero!” you cry, gyrating your hips against his face, chasing that high. And on does he make good on his promise of you cumming on his tongue. A moment more, and the combined pleasure of his tongue tracing every kind of pattern inside of you paired with the frantic circles against your clit finally drives you over the edge, the cord inside you snapping. Your toes curl as you cry out, the force of your orgasm causing your entire body to seize as it washes over you. You bury your face in the pillow, muffling your cries of pleasure as Pero drinks down everything you give him, relishing in the taste of your bliss.

When he finally pulls away, you’re trembling, panting as you begin to slump against the mattress. He eases you down, hovering over you to kiss his way up your back, pausing only at your neck to suck yet another mark into the skin there as you hum in pleasure. “Always so delicious,” he rasps, voice laden with desire as he whispers into your ear. “And so _good_.” His hand runs down your side, gripping your hip as he presses his own against your ass, his cock still rigid and now leaking onto you. “But we aren’t done yet, _nenita.”_ A shiver courses through you, a moan ghosting past your lips at the thought of him filling you, and you lift your hips to grind back against him. This earns a soft, dangerous sounding chuckle from him as he leans back, reaching over for a condom that he hastily slips on. “Up.”

You barely have it in you, but with his help, you’re back on your knees and elbows. For a moment, he runs his hands along your ass, gently massaging the tender skin as he watches you flutter in anticipation. When he finally lines up with you, notching himself at your entrance, you hold your breath in anticipation of the delicious stretch.

Slowly, so slowly, he sinks into you until his hips are flush against your ass, and he lets out a guttural groan at the feeling of you taking him so easily. “ _Buena niña,”_ he barely rasps out, fingers digging into your hips, and you _know_ there will be bruises there tomorrow.

After a moment to let you adjust, he slowly slides out before slamming back into your, the sharp smack of skin against skin filling the room. You gasp out at the force, balling your hands into fists in the sheet once more. “M-more,” you groan, and hearing that beautiful voice of yours begging for him snaps ever last bit of his self control. He sets up a bruising pace, slamming into you over and over again, each time with a grunt of exertion. You will feel him for _days_ , he’s determined to make it so. Every step you take, he wants you to remember him, the way he feels inside of you.

It all quickly becomes too much, and you drop your face to the pillows once again, letting them muffle your screams of pleasure, but Pero is having none of that. With a growl, he slides a hand up your back, tangling his fingers in the roots of your hair, turning your head to the side. The tug earns a sharp moan from you as you comply, desperately mewling and whining for him. “Come here,” he growls, letting go of your hair to slip his hand around the front of your throat, bracing against your collar to pull you up so your back is flush against him. Fingers tease at your neck and you shiver, letting out a choked sounding gasp.

“How,” he accents with a snap of his hips, “will the neighbors,” another snap, “hear you,” snap, “with your face,” snap, snap, snap! “In the pillows?” One hand goes to his hair, tangling once more in the soft locks while the other grips at his wrist as he carefully, lightly squeezes at your throat. This earns him a whimper, your pussy tightening around him and a wicked realization strikes him. “Let them hear that pretty voice, _sí_?”

He keeps up his brutal pace, occasionally tightening his grip on your throat, groaning at how you tighten around him when he does before letting you go again. Your whimpers and moans quickly turn to screams and cries of pleasure as his other hand slips around your hip, fingers seeking out your overly sensitive clit. It’s music to his ears, a sound he could listen to forever and never grow tired of as he slams into you over and over again. When you begin to tremble in his arms, he knows you’re close, and his hand travels up just enough to turn your head, catching your lips in a bruising kiss before he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Cum for me, _hermosa._ Let the whole apartment hear how much you love my cock, how good it makes you feel.” He continues to pound into you, fingers frantic on your clit until you can’t take any more. Euphoria washes over you and you _scream_ , his name the only word on your lips as you absolutely soak him. The sounds filling the room are obscene as he ruts into you, gasping at how you clamp down around him. “Fuck, _fuck!”_ He presses his face against your neck, teeth once more finding purchase against your skin as he chases his own high. His grip on English slips further away from him with his impending release, the babbled sentences in his mother tongue incomprehensible to you, but they sound beautiful on his lips all the same. Once, twice, thrice more he thrusts into you before pressing your hips to his so tightly, it’s near impossible to tell where he ends and you begin as he spills into the condom, twitching inside of you.

For a moment, everything melts away as you both kneel on the bed, bodies entangled, the only sounds that of your labored breaths. You’re trembling, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and your mind hazy from bliss. Pero’s face is still pressed against your neck as he holds himself to you, hesitant to pull away. Eventually though, your legs begin to cramp as the euphoria melts away. With a gentle kiss to your neck and side of your head, Pero finally separates himself from you. He slips from you before gently laying you down on the mattress. A parting kiss between your shoulder blades, and he’s standing, heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he returns, he can’t help the chuckle at the sight of your blissful expression as you lay limp against the bed.

“Are you alright, _mi cielo?”_ he murmurs, sitting on the bed beside you. You hum, pleasantly exhausted as you shuffle over to lay your head on his thigh, smiling up at him.

“I’m better than okay. I’m perfect, and I need us to do things like that more often.” The smile on your face is so innocently excited, Pero can’t help but smile as well, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“Come here,” he quietly orders, holding his arms open for you and you quickly comply, rolling over to scramble into his arms. He cradles you against him, your face against the crook of his neck as he holds onto you, calloused fingers tracing along your skin in soothing patterns, slow and languid. A pleasant hum leaves your lips as you curl further into him, relaxing into his hold as you enjoy the silent company of one another, skin against skin.

“I think,” you finally pipe up after very nearly falling asleep in his hold. “That we did a good job with one last hurrah for this old apartment.”

Pero’s chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle at the comment, and he nods before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I believe we did, _amor._ Now, let us do one last dinner here, hm? Then, sleep. We have much to do tomorrow.”

You hum in agreement, tilting your head up to press a gentle kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Take out? What are you in the mood for?” You clumsily climb out of his lap before turning to press a kiss to his lips. “And you just had me, so I’m temporarily off the menu.” A Cheshire grin spreads across his face and it takes him a moment to catch your reference back to that first night that he finally made his move.

“That is too bad, _hermosa,”_ he rasps, reaching out to catch your jaw gently in his grasp. “Because of all meals in this world, you are by far my favorite.”

You almost, _almost_ cave at his words. That is, until his stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from you as the tips of his ears grow hot. “Dinner first. Then, maybe a special dessert.” You pat his cheek, pulling from his grip to grab his discarded shirt, slipping into it before sashaying to the living room to order dinner, Pero’s eyes glued to your ass as you go.

Tomorrow, he would begin a new chapter of his life with you.

_And he is as thrilled as he is terrified._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lo juro – I swear  
> Buena niña – good girl  
> nenita – baby girl  
> gruñón – Grumpy  
> hermosa – Gorgeous  
> amor – love  
> amante – lover  
> mi cielo – my heaven  
> Eres tan bonita como eso – you’re so pretty like this  
> Solamente mío – only mine  
> Princesa – princess  
> mi alma – my soul  
> Perdóname – Forgive me  
> Duerma bien – sleep well  
> preciosa – precious


End file.
